So there he was.  Our second grade son sat on a stage in front of a big, overwhelming baby grand piano for his end of the year recital.  He looked out at us in the audience and our hearts pounded.  We gave him a wave and smile and he turned to open his music.  Placing his hands on the keys and taking a deep breath he began to play.  The song began but then it stopped.  He started again...and stopped.  Feeling every ounce of me wanting to run up and help him - there was nothing to do but sit and hope he would pull through.  He waited a second more and gave it another try, this time getting through the song as best he could.  There were mistakes but he kept going and finished his song.
     I was pulled back to a feeling I had when I was in school.  I ran track and was asked to fill in for the two mile run.  I had never run two miles in a meet but I figured I'd give it a try.  When the gun shot and we ran from our starter line I wondered why I was the only one who was REALLY running.  Why weren't the other girls running like I was?  I began to lap the other girls thinking that there must be something wrong while secretly hoping I was a natural born champion.  Around the sixth lap I figured out the problem.  Someone had put a big "wall" on the track and I ran straight into it.  I couldn't breath, couldn't feel my legs and I stopped dead cold where I stood.  My Dad ran to the edge of the track where I stood and said, "Don't quit.  You can walk, you can crawl for all I care but don't QUIT."  He offered to walk beside me if I needed him but I somehow found a way to walk/jog for the remaining two laps to finish the race.
   It was a good lesson learned that no matter what, don't ever give up.  As much as I wanted to run up to help my child, just like my Dad before me, I knew I had to let him stay on the stage and keep trying.  Will our son be a concert pianist someday? Prooooobably not.  It was so good to see his nature though and know that he has the heart to stick with it and keep going until the end. 

The mind of an eight year old boy.  Where to begin?  Our oldest son had some friends over and they seemed to be deep in thought.  One of them said, "Hey Miss Bea, how do you spell I cup?"  I stood with confusion and asked, "What do you mean, I cup?  Is that one word or two?"  The boys began to giggle and said, "It's one word Miss Bea.  How do you spell it?"  "Ummmm, I 'c' 'u' 'p'?"  (more giggles)  Can you spell it again Miss Bea?  "I 'C' 'U' 'P'?"  The room erupts into roaring laughter.  "Try one more time Miss Bea!"  Ok, WHAT am I missing here?  "Guys I don't think I cup means anything...I don't understand what you're trying to spell..."  The bravest boy of the bunch explodes saying, "Miss Bea!  You're saying 'I see you pee!"  BwaaHaaHaa!"
Ooooooh the mind of an eight year old boy.  

Kids are wild.  How many times have you caught yourself saying, "If I had HALF of their energy."  When they seem to be getting freakishly close to going bonkers all together, we use a trick: We crank some music up and let them dance around like crazy.  Each of the four kids seems to have their own sense of style when it comes to dancing, ranging from the "spin until you fall down" technique to our older son who likes to run full blast, dance like a madman then take off running again.  The choice of music seems to affect their style, too.  I've noticed that the best dance parties usually occur when we play 80's music.  I may be a little biased but it's hard to stay in your seat when "99 red balloons," or "Come on Eileen" pounds through the house.  
   Sure today's music is great and we play children's music for them too but there's just something about the 80's.  I sometimes wonder if they're going to be the only ones out of their friends who know the words to these songs...but I guess that wouldn't be the worst thing.  I remember my parents playing all of "their" music and I swear my brother and I were the only two kids in our elementary school who knew every Buddy Holly and Chuck Berry song known to man.  What third grader sits at the bus stop humming "Johnny B. Goode?"
    As for now, we'll keep dancing away to the "oldies but the goodies."  I hope they will always continue to dance no matter what life may throw at them...and may they always be able to "Party Like it's 1999."