My student recital Thursday night went really well. The kids played great, and I am so impressed with the hard work everyone put in this year. I taught 18 kids over the course of 10 hours a week this year. It's my biggest studio to date, and I'm drawing the line at this amount. I love the kids I have, but no more. We lost out on family dinner all year long, and I'm anxious to recoup some valuable family time. Max also played in my recital, even though my mom is technically now his teacher. He's done awesome this year, moving from primer level to completing almost half of level one. He's a great practicer, and a natural musician. He may be young still, but he's coordinated, and that's what matters.
Max further proved his musical prowess at his kindergarten spring program. The hoedown theme was funny, but the costuming proved difficult for our family. Aside from jeans and a bandanna, we have no cowboy/farmer appropriate clothing. Max was one of the few kids without a hat or cowboy boots, poor guy. His parents are too citified, apparently. The songs were fun, and I even got him to do his "I'm a Little Piggie" routine for the family afterwards- under great duress. Max embarrasses easily, a trait he picked up straight from me.
Unfortunately, they also did a little "graduation" ceremony towards the end, which led to a serious meltdown the rest of the day. It suddenly hit Max that kindergarten is five short days from being over, and he won't have the same teacher or all the same classmates next year. He went into total meltdown mode for the rest of the night. Tears were shed, heartfelt journaling was done, and no amount of consoling on my part had any effect. I think we're entering a mourning period. I'm suiting up for an epic battle on the last day. Wish me luck.
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