Long, long time ago, before we added six loud children under our roof, I used to enjoy the piano. In fact, back in another life when I was young, single, and carefree, I used to PLAY the piano. Okay, so I never got to be good at it, but that's another story. The point is, I used to like music.
Solomon at the piano recital - he told me loved how LOUD the grand piano was. Uh, sure, we'll get one of those really soon.
Somewhere along the way, thanks to loud screechy kids who are always making some form of noise, resulting in a partial hearing loss in my right ear, I have come to detest sounds of most any nature. Okay, so maybe that's a slight exaggeration. I have just had to learn to tune out little voices chattering with each other all day, every day. The hearing loss is actually quite handy for that.
Isaac, John, and Solomon
My husband is a very persistent "sound generator", especially in the area of music. On days when he is home, he will spend a couple of hours playing the piano. Then there's the guitar, harmonica, ukulele, dulcimer, trumpet (NOOOOO!), and whatever other instrument we have but I have blocked out of my memory. Short of a set of drums, we probably have it all.
Invariably, people who come to the house will comment on how they love hearing beautiful classical pieces played live while they are still in our driveway. You don't know the HALF of it!!!
All this joyful noise making, of course, is in addition to the boys taking turns practicing the piano, guitars, etc. Last week, at one point all three girls were walking through the house "playing" on their little flutes which I had hidden oh-so-carefully, only for my husband to find them and pass them around.
Miriam with her ukulele. How the bear is sleeping through all this is beyond me.
Now, imagine walking into an elementary class room, striking up a conversation with the teacher, and then proceeding to loudly play through one instrument after another, all while teaching and learning is supposed to go on as usual. How long would that work? THAT is my homeschooling reality. Explaining everything from the difference between a dime and nickel, to the Pythagorean Theorem, is a lot harder when someone is loudly banging up and down through the scales as a finger exercise. Since the kids can only practice their music in the mornings, before the girls' nap time, there really is no good way to avoid this cacophony.
Being pregnant must be a majorly aggravating factor, so hopefully, this will pass.
In the meantime, those of you who still have enough hearing ability and sanity left to pursue playing music, you may be interested in a hymn course for piano my husband is writing, called the Complete Church Piano Course. So far, he has finished Book One and Book Two. To order, go to the top right of my husband's blog. Eventually, I believe there will be a total of 4 or 5 books, going from complete beginner level, to being able to play in church, directly out of the hymnal, improvise, etc.
I am blogging about it now, because no doubt by the end of this project I will have gone completely insane, and be unable to form a coherent sentence, much less write a blog post. I'll chalk it up as a sacrifice for the arts.