A Composer in the Making

I get treated to the original works of a singer/songwriter most every day. The Silver Bullet seems to be a constant source of inspiration for my budding musician because songs just come to her out of thin air everytime we get in it to go somewhere. Today I heard the first-ever public rendition of a song called If You Like Bugs and God is in Your Heart (a working title). It went something like this:

If you like bugs
and you think they are delightful
Delightful, delightful
You should keep the bugs
and never squish them
You're not afraid
Because you adore God
and you praise Him
Because of the bugs
They swim in the pool
In the pool, in the pool
And God is in your heart
in the pool, in the pool
And that's all....

She always asks how I like the song, to which I always reply - I love it!! Where did you learn that song? And she scolds me gently, Mama, I didn't LEARN it. I thought of it. Myself. Yes. Of course you did.

Bringing up the Rear

Our Small Fry joined her first soccer team today. Actually her first official team ever. I must say I derived great joy from the whole thing. Seeing her in her tiny uniform just about sent me over the edge into the land of There Has Never Been a Cuter Child Than This In All of History. It's the land where her older sister lives also, in case you were wondering. But really, the greatest part of the whole thing was seeing her out there, just doing her thing. Her Daddy pointed out early on..."Look. She's last." And we exchanged knowing looks. There is a universal truth about Small Fry that we have all come to accept. She's always last. No matter where you're going or what you're doing, the kid will be bringing up the rear. Trying to rush her will do you no good. In fact, in her younger days, it might have brought on a fully involved, five alarm tantrum. I've even gone so far as to warn preschool teachers trying to hustle her out of the car..."Don't Do It. Just let her finish her thought. You will be so glad you did. And so sorry if you don't." Nowadays she takes it mostly in stride, just looking at us quizzically as if to say, What's the rush folks? I've got butterflies to catch and songs to sing. What's your hurry, what's your worry? And soccer practice was no different. They tried to get her to kick the ball and hustle back in line. She was not fazed in the least. She took her time, never noticing that she was taking longer than anyone else or that she was always the last to get back in line. She swung her hair. She played patty cake with her friend. She waved at us on the sidelines. La La La. And she was so happy every single second. God, I love that about her! Not to say it hasn't frustrated the living bejesus out of me now and again, but I think I've learned to let her be. And I so rejoice in her being-ness. I have a friend who is around us a great deal, and she often comments that I am so patient with her. This is, of course, quite comical to me as I would not rate patience at all high on my list of good qualities. But she just brings it out in you. She has trained me to be patient. She insists on doing things at her own pace, and what's wrong with that? We should all insist on the same thing.

Just Keep Swimming

We have survived the first week of school. Summer seems a long-ago memory, although the air is still heavy with Indian Summer heat. It seems that I require a good long while to process life, a system that does not respond well to frequent interruptions and constant sidetracking. There are a lot of experiences and lessons-to-be-learned from this summer that have yet to be fully experienced or properly learned because I'm not an on-the-fly experiencer or learner. My ability to multi-task is just not up to snuff, people! And I have this idea that at my age, my psyche really ought to be a little more settled. You know, like I should know what I want to be when I grow up already. I don't have the luxury of time to ruminate, reflect and figure things out, and yet I feel constant pressure to have things figured out so that I can be this steadfast rock and foundation to some other little growing psyches in this house. And so I'm back gulping snatches of air while the crashing waves of let's-just-get-through-today churn over my head. Is that any way to live?? I think not. But what can I do? Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...I guess that's what Dory would say. Sounds like a plan. Not a great plan, but it's the best I can come up with on limited oxygen.