A Couple Things…

I disappeared for a while. Not by design, but what became busy-ness became laziness. And then it turned into a habit. And I justified this by telling myself that nobody was reading (except for my mom!), nobody was paying attention and it didn’t really matter if I dropped off the face of the blog world.

But then I remembered: that’s not why I started this. I started this for me. To share – yes – but to write, mostly. And to see what came out as I got more used to putting pen to paper fingers to keyboard.

In the mean time, a lot of things happened or have changed. Mostly in a good way.

1. Little m was in her first Nutcracker. Her teacher has been mounting a full-scale (minus the orchestra) production in our small town for about 37 years. Did I mention Little M’s teacher is 85. You should see her legs!

2. Christmas came. And it was mostly lovely. My brother and sister-in-law came to visit, arriving in the wee hours of Christmas Eve. There was also a train set, books, caves and wine. I do not remember the order. And a camera may or may not have been stashed, helpfully we think, by Little c in a box with the parts for the food processor.

3. I went to Greece. Without my family. For a trumpet conference. I know.

4. We’re moving. While this isn’t earth-shattering news, seeing as my husband is in the military, it’s a bit unique as this will be our last move for at least 8-9 years. Mr. T got a job with the U.S. Army Field Band and because of the special nature of the ensemble (it’s one of the elite, permanent party military musical groups in the DC area), it’s a posting until he reaches his 20-year mark or possibly longer if he/we want(s). So we’re leaving this house, the first we’ve ever owned, and are house hunting in an entirely different part of the country. I can’t pretend to be sad about leaving Desert Town. There are good points (including wearing birks in January), but I think living near major metropolitan areas again will be good for my career and my state of mind. We’ll be taking off for Maryland in the early Spring. Any comments or suggestions about the area are welcome!

5. I completed the coursework for my doctorate. Now comes everything else. Woot.

I’m going to try to be better about keeping this up, for me (and my mom!) and anyone that wants to partake of my company. You’re all welcome. All two of you!

Today

Tags

motherhood

Today, I was going to celebrate being finished with the coursework with my doctorate with a little rundown of Christmas music, maybe even a Top 10, along with some sweet pics of Little m doing the Nutcracker or a regaling tale of a weird gig that I did last week.

But I won’t. Because today, it doesn’t matter.

Because today, I was having a hard time keeping my temper and found myself getting frustrated with my little people. My beautiful, vibrant, curious, intelligent little people. The same little people that I carried inside of me, that I nursed in the wee hours of the morning, that I hovered over when they were sick, that I watch on the playground equipment, that I marvel over their growing fingers and toes and vocabulary. The same little people that I tucked in to bed tonight, trying to balance the need for one more hug with their droopy eyelids.

My need as well as theirs.

I’m lucky/blessed to have put my children to bed tonight. To know that they are safe, happy and loved. To not know that ache, firsthand, of those parents in Connecticut.

And yet I ache, all the same, as I imagine the unimaginable. There are no words to express this, just prayer.

Peace be upon them.

Anatomy of a Recital, Part 1

Tags

Horn, Recital

I’ve been MIA for a bit. Not only has school been crazy but I presented a recital as part of my degree requirements. I’ve got four of those suckers, total, and this was the third one.

Also, recital was designated a solo recital. No chamber music. No collaborations, other than with my fabulous pianist. Me, standing up, not sitting, for 55 minutes worth of music. Knocking knees and all.

So I thought I’d write a bit about some of the various components of last Monday, starting with the most important part.

The dress.

Awesome, no?

And it was a last-minute dealie, too. I was hunting Marshall’s for a flashy top of some sort to pair with black suit pants and flats – nothing terribly interesting, but it works for me. I found nothing. Nothing hit that balance of a little bit of flash, flexibility for breathing, formality and not too much flesh. Horn players in recital shouldn’t be flashing too much cleavage. Or maybe that’s my old-fashioned upbringing talking.

So I decided to check out Dillard’s, a place I’ve never been. It kind of reminded of The Bay, maybe a little bit of the long-gone Eaton’s. But a little less focused and definitely not Canadian. I searched the whole stinking place and the  I spotted this. Keep in mind, I wasn’t looking for a dress, I was looking for a shirt. A top. Something that stops somewhere around my hips, possibly an inch of two lower. Not a FULL-LENGTH, FORMAL EVENING GOWN.

But I found it. And it was perfect. And it was on SALE! I thought it was too good to be true. It couldn’t possibly be comfortable, could it? It was. I couldn’t breathe in it, could I? I could. Did I look awesome? I DID.

There were two great things about this dress: ruching and a knit lining are apparently every horn girl’s best friend. A close third? The length. I wore flat, not so pretty sandals hat nobody could see (or hear – they were stealth shoes) and it felt like I was playing barefoot. Bonus.

All this add up to one thing: I looked good and felt great. I didn’t feel restricted but I did feel special. And did I mention it was on SALE?

 

Happiness is good.

Tags

Positive psychology, Shawn Achor

So, I’m taking a course this summer that revolves around setting goals for myself as a musician and how to be more effective at what I do every day. Which is music. Even when I’m not gigging or in school. Even when I’m playing with the Little People, it’s running through my mind. I can’t seem to escape it for any period of time and that’s really led to the realization that I don’t need to. Or want to. And that makes me happy. Even though usually I hate making decisions and like things open-ended, I feel really comfortable with that one.

And that got me thinking about happy and happiness and then I stumbled across this video with Shawn Achor. It’s not a good idea to go googling around for other talks that he’s done because they’re all the same and you’ll get bored and/or disillusioned. But this version of his presentation is spot on and even if it’s not the deepest thing in the Universe, it’s entertaining and it got me thinking. Which is never a bad combo.

Here’s the vid.

I don’t believe that doing all the things he talks about at the end of the talk will make me richer or thinner or smarter. But being grateful for what you have makes you appreciate things in a new light and reaching out to people in various ways affirms a lot of what I believe in my life and faith. Of late, I’ve been keeping a journal of all the things I’m grateful for, with at least three unique entries every day. And you know what? I’m not having any problem finding new things for which to be thankful. Despite not quite being where I want to be in life, I’m amazed by where I am and what I have and the people who have touched my life. I’m realizing that I’m pretty stinkin’ lucky and blessed.

Wow. Pollyanna much?

I am not fat.

Tags

Health, Physical exercise

I am not fat.

Not by any stretch of the imagination. My BMI is well within the healthy range, my dress size is within the single digits. We eat healthy food 90-95% of the time with lots of variety and colour.

Despite this, I am not healthy.  At least not as healthy as I want to be. And there’s something slightly intangible about it. I can change certain things about how I live and it will get better. I’ll have more energy. My mood will generally improve. I’ll be less stressed out. But none of this adds up to a plan. To making the women that I see on the cover of Women’s Health or Shape a reality in my own body, even in a  small way.

Women’s Health magazine, May 2009 issue (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

But I am lazy. That much I know. I am not as active as I should be, for my health or my children or my playing. I can blame this on a lot of things: children, schedule, commuting, school, old lower back injury, heat. Just to name a few.

I am also not stupid. And I know that exercise will and does make me feel better about any number of things: my children, my body, commuting, school, old lower back injury. There some obvious overlap there.

I am not alone in this. So why is it so hard to get moving and keep moving? There’s a couple of reasons, for me anyway. Or maybe I should call them attitudes. So let’s begin, because maybe seeing them all laid bare, in stark black and white blog-ese, will be a reckoning of sorts.

1. The gym is too far from my house. It’s actually about 5 miles. 10 miles/16 kms, round trip. And it seems so silly to drive all that way and get on a stationary bike for 45 minutes.

2. I hate the gym. Yes, yes I do. It’s stinky and smelly. The ceiling is too low in the cardio room. The locker rooms can’t even be charitably called industrial chic. The rooms are labyrinthine and it’s hard to find my way around. They have annoying things on their televisions. The classes they offer aren’t my cup of tea.

3. I get bored. My mind turns into the most appalling mush while I’m at the gym and I’m conscious of it. Since those stupid little ear buds hurt my ears and I’m thus far too cheap to buy headphones that don’t, I’m stuck in a boring, silent world, looking at my wobbly bits bounce in the mirror.

4. I have no time. Ah, yes the busy-ness trap. It’s a fact that that I’m chasing after two little kids, have an hour and a half commute to school (when it’s in session), don’t practice enough and don’t spend enough quality time with my husband. It’s also true that I spend too much time online. Like right now.

5. I hate being hot. I know I live in the desert, but I’m Canadian, after all. I don’t actually mind the sweating part if there’s a cool breeze (read: fan or AC) to help evaporate the goop.

So what do I like about exercise? I like how I feel afterwards. I like that my confidence in my body rises, not just in how I look but what I can do. I like how open my lungs are when I play my horn. I like not having muffin top. I like groaning about how sore I am after a particularly satisfying workout. I would like to stop wearing my maternity pajama bottoms (There. I said it.).

So I’m going to try doing something tangible. Something new every week.  This week it’s daily ab workouts. Three times a day, which sounds really ambitious.  All I’m going to do is to split up what I would have done pre-children into three mini sessions. And now it doesn’t sound so ambitious. But I’m ok with that.