Different Difficulties

Aidan and Zoe find piano challenging for different reasons.

Zoe, being almost 4, has smaller hands, and can't read yet. Therefore, she works hard at reaching for a the correct notes. She also has a harder time learning how to read music. However, she is great at playing notes in a very lovely legato. She also really, really, wants to play.

Aidan is so involved in his playing- his whole body moves up and down as he counts the beats. He is progressing very well with reading music too. We are flying through the book. But, oh dear, the attitude. "I am trying!" But child, not trying is not the problem. The technique is the challenge!

For them, learning piano is a very good challenge. I can almost see the wheels turn in their cute little heads, as they try to figure out what note they need to play, the rhythm, the fingers, keeping the body still, and of course, to obey.

In some ways, all the things these kids do, I see the tasks as secondary, but the primary reason for doing these things? To obey. When I say use your first finger on the middle C, there is no need to speak. Just put your first finger on the middle C. It doesn't matter if you like it or not like it, you just do. It is just warm ups for obeying the curfew.

I also am finding out why my mother used to do all these kind of annoying things while I practiced. She sang along, she counted out loud, she tapped on my shoulder, she pounded on the piano... Yup, I am doing all that stuff. (And it is all driving A&Z crrrrrazy!) I think, the process just TAKES SO LONG, that I sing, tap, count, to get the knowledge to them, by sheer force. Which, of course, doesn't work.

What works? Just lots of practice.

Summer Camp

This school year is just going by all so quickly- Aidan already celebrated the 100th day of school- the end is near. That means, time to figure out summer camps.

We are blessed that Aidan goes to a year-round school, so that I only have about 6 weeks of summer to plan. While he is in school for the same number of days (just 180 days!) as a traditional calendar includes, his break happens in short chunks. As a working mother, it is far easier to figure out breaks in snippets than a huge 12 week block.

The downside is that it is hard for me to ship him away to an intense summer camp. You see where this post is going...

When I was a kid, my summers were very 'productive'. My mother, who worked as a teacher, had the same schedule as us. As far back as I could remember, on the very first day of summer, she drew up a schedule for my brother and me. My sister came later and by the time she started having summer breaks, my mother was already too tired to do this for her. (Lucky girl, or unlucky girl, hard to tell.) Anyway, between the two of us, my mother instructed us pretty much all day long, although we did have nap time. While I practiced piano on my own, my mother did stuff with him (I still am not sure what they did), and while she sat with me, my brother was sent off to read on his own. We were kept BUSY. She also brought home books about how to teach other people to do things that she actually didn't know how to do. Like roller skating. We were coached in roller skating by a lady who had never been in roller skates herself. (Pretty awesome, don't you think?!)

Anyway, while we didn't do camp, we were at basic training. Math, writing, reading, music, and of course, roller skating.

I want to give Aidan summers like that. Full, productive, and fun. (It was fun learning how to roller skate, in our apartment, on the fourth floor. No need for sunblock!)

However, camps here are not like that! They are not full and productive enough! I had picked up an info sheet for a skating camp. Get this: for a 3 hour per day camp, the kids are only on the ice for 1.5 hours each day. WHAT?! What are they doing the other 1.5 hours?! Sitting around?! Wasting time?! While the Chinese figure skating trainees are skating, skating, and skating!

Moreover, why are camps only 3 hours long each day?! Camps ought to be 8 hours long! Work, work, work! Arbeit macht frei!

While there is an intense camp for swimmers locally, my Aidan does not like to swim. And he is too young for it anyway. So I am going to make him swim at a less intense camp. (This is going to be SO fun for Aidan!) No, seriously, it is important to know how to swim. Swimming is fun, when you know how. He is going to swim.

Aidan is actually chosing to do something that sounds WAY too intense for me: an outdoor soccer camp for 6.5 hours daily for a week. In the hot summer sun. Running around. I have said it is outdoors, right?! But that is what he wants to do.

He will also do a couple weeks of 'science camp.' Of course, we have a family vacation scheduled- and I will be sure to take him by Julliard/Lincoln Center, and perhaps catch a concert there. This is going to be one educational, productive, exhausting, summer. =)

p.s. I am not sure how I feel about overnight camps, actually. There has to be a reason that in all these teeny bopper movies, there are references such as, "one time, at band camp..." Who supervises these kids after hours?

Work Dads and Moms

Possibly the benefit of having an older brother who has always been very precocious is that I prefer friends/colleagues who are older than me. Basically, I like old people. There is just so much more wisdom, depth, life experience that old people have, that I want to have. (Also, I am being facetious, while I do like truly old people, I actually just mean anyone who is older than me, which is actually most of the world.)

I also have this habit of picking up 'parental figures' at school and work. Remember C? My school mom from college? Hello C! How are you? =)

In med school, I seriously lacked a school parent. There just wasn't one available, there were so many students, and we went through so many different parts of the hospital, and I do think not having a med school parent made the experience more difficult than necessary. Not that I didn't try. I did try to pick up a med school parent at church, but it was just too hard, for starters, I didn't have time to develop that kind of relationship.

In residency, my residency director was like a parent. He taught me almost everything I know about psychiatry. I also had a residency mom- who was a supervisor. Ann taught me about therapy, as well as life as a working-mom. She passed last year- miss you Ann!

At my first job out of residency, I found a perfect work dad in my medical director. He was, and still is, incredibly kind, smart, and wise. While I only worked for him for five months, he was the best kind of boss. He never made me feel bad about being pregnant, in fact, he told me, if I didn't like the job, if the job interfered with my life as a wife and mother, I could just quit. He also called to tell me, that if I didn't want to be on back-up call, and round on 1/2 of the unit, he would do it for me over the weekend. (The census was low, and he didn't mind doing the extra work- he got paid for doing the work, so I didn't feel bad.) That gave me an unexpected weekend off! Most of all, after Zoe was born, when I called him to tell him in July, "Um, sorry, I know I said I was going to go back in September... I won't be. So sorry. I just can't do call with a new baby." He never gave me a hard time.

I had lunch with him today- and he was just as kind, wise, and supportive as ever. I definitely would not be where I am today without him- he gave me excellent advice, even though it became clear, that we would never work together again. He didn't have to, but he continued to help me grow my career. What a great work dad. Thanks Tom!

Of course, at my second job post residency, my unit director became my work dad. Every week, we met for supervision- he taught me a great deal, skills I still use everyday at work. Eventually, I moved on, yet he still looked out for me and made sure I could use all my leave for the year before I resigned mid-year. What a nice guy! He didn't have to, but he did anyway. (Maybe this is when you realize that government employees are misusing your tax dollars, but hey, I was the net recipient of your hard earned money.)

I still have a work dad in private practice. Whenever I need to move furniture, I ask him to move stuff for me. When people owe me money and won't pay, he gives me advice on how to hunt them down and make 'em pay.

I am a lucky girl, to have an awesome Heavenly Father, who gave me a great Biological Dad, and so many fabulous Work Dads.

Possibly a Wee Bit Obsessed

I am possibly a wee bit obsessed about learning how to ski.

Remember how I threw myself down a blue slope and thought I was going to be picked up by ski patrol? And how I did actually get picked up by ski patrol, just four hours before I thought they would come for me?

Because I am a determined kind of woman, the next step is to obviously get more ski gear, then plan a trip to go back and do it again.

Over January, Hubby and I acquired our own ski boots and more ski clothes. It felt a little odd to be throwing money at something we didn't really know how to do well, (or for me, how to do it at all!) but alas, we had heard that the trick to skiing was to be 'comfortable' in the boots. How exactly would one be 'comfortable' with all this plastic tight against my feet was a mystery to us, but alas, we did it anyway. I can now say that the most expensive pair of shoes I own is my ski boots. My most expensive pants are my ski pants. Just to get my money's worth, we had to go back.

So we did this past weekend. It took us forever to get to Tahoe- Hubby had to install chains on his own, which he insisted on doing, so I didn't really feel badly for him. However, we got stuck on the interstate because they had CLOSED it. CLOSED IT! We essentially made peace with the fact that we were going to stay overnight in the car. (Because we are both determined people, the idea of turning around to spend the night somewhere, and possibly miss the reopening of the interstate was not, is not, an option.)

When we got to the condo, we couldn't find it! All that deep, deep snow covered everything. As Zoe said, "All that deep, deep snow, all that snow had to go!" (She loves, loves The Cat in a Hat Comes Back, because, she is our little cat Z!) It took us, actually, just Hubby, nearly an hour, of running around in four feet of snow, to find the right building, the lock box, and to get us in. We had to carry the kids in- remember that four feet of snow? Oh dear, carrying kids who weigh so much, at altitude, while freezing was really hard work...

This time though, instead of going to Squaw, we went to Tahoe Donner, which was a really good choice for many reasons. Squaw is a great place if you know what you are doing, if you don't know what you are doing, all those black diamond slopes are not enjoyable. Some friends of ours, avid skiers, had made the recommendation to Tahoe Donner, and they were absolutely right. The kiddie area was adjacent to the lifts, and it was less fancy, which suited us just fine.

Aidan and Zoe took lessons, but Hubby and I decided to just practice. The idea was to practice coming down the hill, but somehow, we were much more hazardous at getting off the lift. Hubby fell there once, and took me down with him. I accidentally tried to jump off (?!) the lift, and totally ate it. I also stuck my poles in the snow as I was getting off (?!) and ate it again. I ate it again, once more, when I rode it with Aidan, and our skis got all tangled up (?!), oh, and that time, the next chair came and hit my butt. (I now have a very nice bruise to remind me of my folly.) Seriously.


As for skiing, I got better at it. I even got good enough to take Zoe down a green slope, albeit Tahoe Donner green slope (so it was probably actually flat...), and a very short one at that. She had cried and cried when we got off the little magic carpet ride, because she couldn't get her skis in place. "Mommy! I wanna take off my skis and walk down!" (WHAT?! There was no way I was going to let her do that! It would kill her confidence in skiing! It would kill MY confidence in skiing!) We did make it down, as we made "ice pizza." And if I may say so, it was a very nice wedge of ice pizza.

Aidan, on the other hand, was ready to go down black diamonds. He was flying!

Hubby was so excited to take me down Tahoe Donner's "One Mile Run". I was rather concerned about it- because my last run-in with something called "Run" was a complete disaster! Anyway, after he scoped it out, I was going to try it on the second day... however, with so much snow, they had closed it.

Looks like we will have to go back!

Piano Pedagogy

I have mentioned here that I am teaching A&Z piano, right? I can't remember. While I remember what people tell me at work, I am finding it increasingly difficult to remember what I am saying myself. The irony is so thick, isn't it?!

Anyway, because I can't find a teacher, I have decided to start myself. The thinking is, I have been taught, I have a mother who taught, might as save some money and time.

Well, time saving this exercise is most definitely not.

Money saving? Yet to be seen. I am finding myself buying all kinds of piano books, not for the kids, but for me.

What am I learning?

I really just want to push these kids off the piano bench and practice myself. When I practice, no one talks back, no one giggles, I don't need stickers. I just work. I like it.

But alas, it is the children I am trying to expose to music, not myself.

I have abandoned the Suzuki method for Aidan. We may return to it when he READS music. For now, Sebastian is the series for us. It is actually the book I learned to play 30 years ago. If it was good enough for me, I am sure it is good for these two kids.

A&Z bring up different challenges for me as their teacher, because they are just such different kids!

Aidan likes to converse during piano lessons. I say, "Listen. This is how you are playing it. (Choppy.) This is how you want to play it. (Legato.)" He says, "Ok! Why?! You are not using ball fingers. Out of position!" Good grief! Finally, this morning, I have told him: "Look, piano lessons are not for you to talk. What you think about it does not matter at this time. You need to close your mouth and just listen. Musicians start by listening. If you talk one more time, I am going to sit on you."

Zoe gets very emotional when she can't play the pieces. To her defense, her hands are just so tiny that it is hard for her to use one finger for each white key. When she keeps playing the wrong notes, I get really annoyed. Not annoyed at her, but annoyed that she is only almost four years old. Maybe she is getting started too early?(Remember how I really want to push the kids off the bench so I can play?!) Then she shows me her puppy eyes, and says, "Are you mad at me?!" We have decided that she is going to cry less and I am going to be more patient. She has also made it clear that she doesn't want to stop because she is just three years old.

I am learning a lot about patience.

These kids are not very good about practicing on their own. Basically, they have come to expect that they will get lessons DAILY. (See, it is NOT a time saver.) They want new music to practice, they don't want to play the same piece 10 times, like I tell them to.

We have a lot to learn.

After the kids both played today, I practiced myself. After an hour of it, I told the kids, "Did you hear how I practiced? I played the same page, over, and over, and over again."

I am one inspiring teacher... Don't these kids know? The joy of piano stems from playing the same piece five thousand times.

The Ideal, for now

I can't believe that I wrote about how school needs to be longer, in this blog last year. That was truly, a stupid idea.

We love Aidan's 1st grade teacher. She is super organized, kind, focused, and, basically awesome. Of course, it helps that she also attended an all-women's college, so we are really like kindred spirits. I also think she assigns just enough homework- probably because I actually never have to ask Aidan to do his homework. According to his after school Chinese program director, while the other children are running around, Aidan is getting his homework done. (I have to brag a bit about it, because it is utterly not my gene. I went through a stretch of time when I refused to do homework...)

Back from my tangent, as much as we love his teacher, it is school, and there are 23 other children in Aidan's class. I volunteer for an hour weekly, during the 'reading center' time. This has enabled me to see where each of the kids are with their reading and writing skills, in addition to getting to know all the kids. There is simply a huge range of skills- there is a girl who writes in cursive, very beautifully. Although, this said girl does not like to stay on task so she does very little writing... There are children who are reading beautifully, chapter books, and with excellent comprehension. Then there are two kids who are considerably behind. Perhaps in any other school they wouldn't be 'behind', but with this bunch of kids, they are dramatically behind. One child has made tremendous improvement, but the other, not so much. I am asked to spend more time helping them, to get them up to speed, because, 2nd grade is going to require a lot more reading, and these two kids, if they don't catch up, are going to be hurting.

It is a bit astounding to think that 2nd grade kids can be behind. SECOND grade!

I haven't seen either of the movies, but I hear, Waiting for Superman and Going Nowhere are two documentaries about our educational system, from two very different perspectives.

I love how we, the American society, like to polarize EVERYTHING.

Get this, people. Different kids will require different kind of teaching! A child who has a hard time reading/writing must be encouraged/forced to read a lot, write a lot, ad nauseum. A child who has a hard time with math will need to write the multiplication table, again, and again, and again. A child who hates to sit down and learn stuff, then will need to have different ways of practicing math skills, like going to the store with Mom and figuring out the cost of each item, per ounce, as a way of practicing math. Kids who don't need homework, because they have mastered the concept, has already done the homework, perhaps not in the exact same form, but trust me, they have done the work. There are no short cuts about learning spelling, arithmetic, and the basics. By looking at words A LOT, one eventually learns how to spell. But if a child isn't exposed to looking at words, how on earth can a child learn it?

If I had more money/time to throw at the problem, this is how I want Aidan's day to be structured.

I would hire Aidan's teacher to be our 'governess'! And every hour, he would have a specific subject, they would fly through the material, and all the academic learning will be done by noon.

Then, after lunch, a Chinese tutor would come for an hour. He will then be whisked away to do ice hockey, with a team, you know, for socialization. He will then return after an hour, for some independent play, then, piano for another hour. Voila, by 4 pm, he would have mastered lots of new info, played, exercised, socialized, and then I can send him to weed, or send him door to door to collect money for some kind of philanthropy project.

Honestly, I think he will probably be bored with this schedule. He likes his friends, he likes to tell people about our fat cat, and it is good that he likes people. But I do think our children waste a lot of time at school, public or private.

LASIK

Once upon a time, when I was young and dumb, I wanted to wear glasses. All my favorite people wore them: My mom, my dad, my brother, my teachers.

Oh, to be young and so stupid.

In 7th grade, when I was really given glasses to wear, for the first few weeks, I kept forgetting them at home. My mom had to bring them to school for me, eventually, she made a sign by the front door: DO YOU HAVE YOUR GLASSES?

I moved on to contacts by 10th grade, thank the Lord. Over the years, my right eye kept getting worse, and my left eye maintained its sight relatively well. Eventually, I met 'medical necessity' due to the drastic difference between the two eyes, which meant, I could get either glasses or contacts, for free, every year. Still, in my new found older age and relative wisdom, I preferred to go all natural, sans glasses, whether on my nearly non-existent nasal bridge, or on my eye balls.

So I had Lasik done last week. The plan was that I would go and get it done, then call Hubby to take me home for a valium-induced nap. Alas, the surgeon's schedule fell behind, and by the time Hubby came for me, I was still in glasses. Boy, was I thankful that the surgeon was delayed. Due to my 'small palpebral fissures', it was a bit challenging to get my eyeballs totally flat and ready for the laser. (What was the surgeon thinking? Didn't he see that I am Asian?! Of course I have small eyes!) There were moments, when the suction cups came to my eye balls, that I was thinking, "giving birth without an epidural was better than this." It was better, because I had actually seen women give birth sans pain management, therefore, when I had to do it, unexpectedly, it wasn't so terrible.

As for eyes, my two weeks of ophthalmology rotation as a fourth year boiled down to three points:
1. I saw a lot of people with bad eyes due to high blood pressure or diabetes.
2. I was coughing on my patients for about a week, and I actually got sent home, so I actually did not have a 'two week' rotation in ophthalmology.
3. I really know nothing about eyes.
A totally useless experience for my own Lasik procedure.

Due to the difficulty with my small palpebral fissures, it was difficult to flip my cornea for the laser... so my poor eyes endured some 'bruising'. Dear God, my eyes HURT. It was like someone poured a WHOLE CUP of sand in each of the eyes, and then stomped on them.

The valium didn't really help. I was rather intrigued about taking some valium- people seek out this substance all the time, they run out early, 'lose them', and frankly, I wanted to know what the big deal was. I was utterly unimpressed. The valium did help me to go to sleep, but before I fell asleep, I was rather anxious! Probably didn't help that my eyes were tearing like two ginormous waterfalls, and I couldn't open them! So I heard thumping noises in my ears- probably my own heart rate, or someone really stomping on my eyes.

Anyway, I woke up four hours later, with excellent vision. Although, A&Z kept asking, "What happened to your EYES?" I told them, "I am secretly a dragon, just getting ready for Chinese New Year's." They didn't believe me.

These days, I still look for my glasses, out of habit, only to then remember, oh yeah, I did pay someone handsomely for lasering my eyes. I don't need glasses anymore.