Mid-year Recital

Is there anything that strikes more fear in the hearts of parents and children alike than recitals? 

I remember enduring years of practicing, and performance nerves from my own childhood, and now I watch as my daughter goes through the same anxiety-ridden process. 

What I have discovered though, is that being a parent doesn't make it any easier.  Now I'm still nervous but with absolutely no control.  The nerves come from hoping that my child has practiced enough, is confidant and feels good about their performance, and will have the skills to move on if they make a mistake or two.  Trying to instill them with the right amount of zealousness and pride, without becoming a crazed lunatic of a mother, and brow-beating them into musical submission. It's all a little much. 

And then there is the recital itself.  

Which usually means trying to keep my other kids quiet while we are regaled with sonata's and minuets by mini-prodigies.  I wish.  More like "Twinkle Twinkle" six times over by clumsy and nervous little kids.   

And honestly, you know it has to be confessed, the only kid I'm really interested in watching perform is my own.  Sorry. 

This year though, Thyra's piano teacher got it right.   Recital at his parent's home.  Not too many kids.  One song each, and the best part?  A potluck supper following.   Now that is music to my ears. 

                              

Waiting her turn