As Jo gets more serious about skating, I add new skills too. First it was the hair styling (actual email received a few weeks ago: “Please do not cut your skater’s hair until competition season is over. Bangs are especially hard to work with!”) and the fact that “if you’re not puking, you’re skating.” Then it was understanding how to buy ice time, via a contract with the figure skating club. For the record, my best bet was to buy 26 hours of time at once, calculated on a per-minute basis.

Most recently, I took a lesson how to be a music monitor during said ice time. Someone asked me “Is that like a DJ?” and I said yes, only without the turntables and those giant headphones. And also, cold. Basically, you sit in one of those boxes next to the ice and put CDs into the player. On the ice, 15 or so girls are either practicing individually or working one-on-one with a coach. They line up their CDs of program music and the monitor plays them, in order. Except sometimes, a coach comes in with a “pro call” and bumps to the front of the line. (There is a list of about 20 rules for music playing, so you can understand why I was totally nervous the first time). And then some other times, whichever skater whose turn it is doesn’t want their music after all. So between each CD, the monitor has to stick her head out of the box and bellow, “JULIA!” or “MADDIE!” or “KATIE!” once or ten times until the girl says Yes, please play my CD, or No, not now, thanks.

Related: Why is it kind of intimidating dealing with teenage girls? They are perfectly nice, but I did not like that bellowing part of the job.

Also related: Proper attire is essential for music monitors. This means fingerless gloves, and also apparently eyeglasses so you can realize that there are not one, but TWO space heaters in your little box, in case you would like to maybe turn them on?

Here it is! 60 seconds of my 5-year-old humming, making kissy noises, and filming the ceiling of the gym. Oh, and that whitish blob that occasionally appears in the bottom left corner of the screen is me. At :53 my part comes in (dee deedle dee dee deedle dee dee dee!). At 1:01 the video stops before the song does. Some videographer that kid turned out to be.

Yep, I abandon the blog for 10 days and this is what I have to show for it! Enjoy.

My daughter’s school has a piano keyboarding program. Twice a week for 30 minutes, a heroic teacher instructs an entire class on basic piano skills. Each child plays a full-size electronic keyboard, with headphones so the teacher can listen in. Kids advance at varying speeds depending on their ability, so they are not all playing the same song or even using the same music book at the same time.

We also, space being at a premium, do not have a dedicated music room. So every Tuesday and Thursday morning before school, parent volunteers (I’m one of them) set up 25 stands, keyboards, stools, music stands, and headphones, plus a complicated network of extension cords. And every Tuesday and Thursday morning before lunch, we come back to put it all away. We are a small, but dedicated bunch. We’ve contemplated “Keyboard Roadie” t-shirts and theme songs. We pretty much danced in the streets when we got some new cabinets that allowed us to store the keyboards horizontally instead of vertically.

Of course, twice a year the kids put on a show for their classmates and parents. For the upcoming spring concert, the teacher asked a few of us setter-uppers and taker-downers to perform with our children. And so next Thursday night, I will be plinking and plunking along with the Group 1 kids–that’s one step up from kindergarten, y’all–as their accompanist for two songs (those beloved classics, “Pumpkin Party” and “The Tooth Fairy”).

I am very nervous.

*Not really, because my phone is lame and my ability to type with my thumbs is even worse. So let’s pretend you’re receiving these in real time. They’re all true!

@mayberrymom 1st grade boy doing kick-ass drum solo. Srsly, he’s GOOD 10:08 am

@mayberrymom Ouch. This kid is finding “Twinkle Twinkle” a bit … challenging. 10:21  am

@mayberrymom Up next: girl with purple crimped hair, gonna play the electric bass 10:34 am

@mayberrymom She rocked it! *devil horns* 10:36 am

@mayberrymom 1st of 3 hula hoop acts (my kid’s is #3. She’s going to pwn them) 10:40 am

@mayberrymom kid in cowboy hat/tight jeans, gonna play the fiddle. 10:44 am

@mayberrymom JOKES! 10:59 am

@mayberrymom Why didn’t the skeleton cross the road? Because he didn’t have the guts! 11:00 am

@mayberrymom 11:13 a.m. already?! 11:13 am

@mayberrymom Yes! My kid can swivel her hips like nobody’s bizness. 11:18 am

@mayberrymom 4 boys in tie-dyed shirts, “Evolution of Dance.” Crowd eating out of their hands. 11:23 am

@mayberrymom Basketball “tricks” w/ Sweet Georgia Brown for soundtrack. White boys can’t jump. 11:29 am

@mayberrymom And… done. 5 mins left in the school day. 11:40 am

In 1967 my dad helped found a Dixieland jazz band, with which he performed for over 20 years until he moved out of the area. The band played at my wedding, is still together and still includes some of the original members, including the trombone player who was one of the co-founders (and also one of my music teachers in middle school).

A couple of months ago my dad received an email from this trombone player. It was a save-the-date message—for his upcoming wake.

It turns out that he has a terminal illness and he’s decided that you know what? He’d like to attend his own funeral, seeing as how he is the guest of honor. He says he knows that his wife won’t throw him a traditional jazz funeral, so  he’s throwing it for himself before he goes. He’s since sent out formal, printed invitations to 100 people and booked a hall.

More power to him,  I say. My dad will be there, and he’ll bring his banjo.

Saturday morning: Chili Peppers ‘n’ pancake prep.

After my mini-college reunion last month, our host gave all of us a CD which is a recreation of a mix tape he had made way back when. I’ve been listening to it all week and here’s one of my favorite songs from it.

*because it was so very popular last week

For no reason at all except that I looooove this…

For a musician‘s daughter, I have done a woeful job of exposing my children to music. We have a few CDs that we play in the car on endless repeat and that is nearly it. Once in awhile we rock out in the laundry room or have an after-dinner dance party, but I confess we are just not a household where tunes are always spinning in the background.

So the new That Baby DVD I recently reviewed (along with its companion, That Baby CD) has been a welcome addition. For the full review, as always, please click over to The Full Mommy. This one could definitely fill a few slots on your holiday shopping list–and there’s a coupon code available too.

Last month we took the kids to see the touring production of The Lion King. We had bought the tickets nearly a year in advance, knowing that Opie would be barely two years old on the date of the performance. We figured we’d decide whether to take him or not once we had a better read on his behavior, and if we thought he couldn’t hack it, we’d leave him home with a sitter and sell or give away his ticket.

As the date approached, we decided that even though he is two and all boy, he might be trusted to behave during the performance. He loves music and is fascinated by live performance. He loves animals. He had done very well at his first movie matinee in April. The audience at the Lion King would be full of families and kids, and the venue even allowed snacks in the seats. If he did melt down, one of us would suck it up and take him out to the lobby.

We prepped both kids extensively. We listened to the soundtrack constantly (feel free to quiz me on which track is “Hakuna Matata” and which one is “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King”) and watched the movie several times. We drilled them on the rules (Opie informs you: “be KYE-it an’ sitinmyseat”). And we packed a few Nuks along with the snacks.

And he did it! (Am I leaving Jo out? It’s just that we never had a moment’s doubt about her, couch potato princess that she is.) For the first few minutes of the first act, he pointed at the exit and told me he wanted to “GO DERE” and “GO HOME,” but he soon settled into my lap with his hands primly folded and watched everything without another word. During the second act, he was a little more chatty, piping up occasionally with questions and comments, but overall, he was an exemplary little audience member.

Since that day, both kids are even more LK-obsessed than ever. We still listen to the soundtrack all day long: In the car. At naptime. At bedtime. During dinner. While playing outside. (You should hear Opie’s operatic rendition of “When I was a young wart-HOG!”) We “read” the souvenir program book just as often. Nearly daily, both kids ask when we are going to see Lion King again.

Which brings me, at long last, to my point. The tour is coming to a city a few hours’ drive from us in the fall. We thought it would be a fun treat to take the kids and spend the weekend. Last night I investigated ticketing options–until I came to this roadblock: “Patrons must be age four or over. No one under age four will be admitted.”

And in an instant the whole trip was off. Look, I totally understand that they don’t want screaming babies or disruptive toddlers to ruin the paying customers’s experience. But I’d like to be able to decide for myself whether my kid’s attendance is appropriate. I am, after all, the one who is shelling out $75 for his ticket. Or not, as the case may be is. I’m very disappointed that our whole family has to miss out because of this stupid rule. And I’m really angry at the clueless parents whose kids’ behavior must have prompted it. If they’d had the good sense to control their offspring in public–or remove them from the scene if necessary–my children wouldn’t have to miss out.