Actually, I think I was 'Hisponarabia' or something like that. Not that it's really relevant now, since Adam hit me with an atomic bomb this morning as the natives were in a kitchen-wide clean up effort related to the recent devastating tsunami of dirtiness.
Yeah, so Adam has discovered the game of 'army'. He was the united states. I tried to convince him not to enter the enemy territory of the kitchen (representing the humble nation recently devastated by several tsunamis of dirtiness) because the land mines would get him... and that's when he nailed me with atomic destruction. And claimed in-destructiveness due to his superior aircraft (in other words, he didn't have to worry about my measly little land mines because he had harnessed the magic of flight).
In other news, I convinced Andrew to move his body from the car to the unknown territory of group violin lessons. We have missed out on this opportunity for months due to all sorts of last minute catastrophe (mostly invovling mom's forgetfulness between the hours of 6am and 7:30am), but this last Thursday (wow, was that yesterday? sheesh), I finally got him there. The group violin (really, they're string lessons, but go with me here) lessons are being provided by a wonderful lady on the other side of the valley for free. That's right. She does it for free. The only problem is that it's located on the other side of the valley, at the same time that I'm supposed to be dropping off my oldest two. At the other end of the valley.
You see the conundrum. Short of ripping a hole in the space-time continuum, I was shot. Well, until I came up with the incredible idea to maybe arrange a carpool for one morning a week. Of course, when I say 'carpool', I really mean 'get someone else to transport my children to school for me, and not really an exchange of any type', although I was polite and offered to exchange favors of transporting should they be okay with that. Whew. Anyway, I now have Andrew all the way across town on a Thursday morning minutes after 8am. Which is when Andrew informs me that he is not leaving the car until we drive back across town to our own house.
No fricking way. So, me and my completely brilliant parenting ways think fast, and this is what we come up with:
'Andrew, if you don't want to keep playing the violin, we can just return it sweetie. That's okay.'
'No!!! I don't want you to give away my violin!'
'Well, if you want to keep the violin, you need to get out of the car and go to your lessons.'
It's amazing how slowly a 4year old can move when faced with the impossible situation of either losing their violin or walking with mom the twenty feet to the school gymnasium (across town) where free lessons await him.
I had all sorts of horrible scenarios in my head about how exactly all my actions up to this point were all working together to sabotage my budding musician's every interest in anything.... well, musical. But, you know, once he got comfortable with the idea, he had such a good time. I mean, actual light bulb of a smile when the teacher would tell him he was doing well.
Which I have no problem taking credit for.
Awesome.
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