My kids are in band.
My husband was the DRUM-MAJOR at his high school… so, yeah… my kids were doomed to be band-geeks. I was on drill team in high school, so I got to parade around in short little skirt and swivel my hips while said band nerds played “Tequila” at football games. I am not sure what this dooms my kids to be… I won’t go there.
But in all fairness the band at the local junior high is full of the cool kids. Largely in part to an amazing band director who wins, like, POPULARITY contests for being the coolest teacher in the whole wide world. Nobody stands a chance against this guy. So…. back to what I was saying… my kids (and everyone else’s) are in band.
So, last week I went to the band concert. They call it a “gig” which, to me, is more like a cool dude with a guitar in a coffee shop, but I’ll go with it for now. So, I went to the band gig. Izzy was playing in the 6th grade band (trumpet) and Jade was playing in the 8th grade band (clarinet). I left the two littlies at home with Dave, but took Lily (who plans on joining next year and playing the flute) with me.
We arrive at the junior high, head to the gym, and climb to the top of the bleachers. We cuddle in with a bunch of peeps from the hood (I know that I live in a suburb, but every so often I like to speak the speak, ya know?) I end up sitting next to Lily and 3 of her buddies from 4th grade. Which is possibly THE MOST embarrassing thing that has ever happened to Lily. I mean… can you even stand it? Her Aunt sat NEXT to her in public?
But back to me…
As I am sitting there listening to “Go Tell Aunt Rhodie” and “Old MacDondald Had a Farm” for the third year in a row, the numbers started to calculate in my head. And then I realized that because of the way my kids were spaced out, I had 15 MORE YEARS of band concerts in front of me. Oh yes… 15 more years. Then the images began to flash.
The people around me would change, but I would be the one constant at all the concerts for the next 15 years. There was like this time-lapse photography thing going on in my head of me sitting in the same place on the bleachers while the people around me changed – most of whom will be younger than me. I would keep getting older and my eyes would glaze over just a bit more each year. The rest of the parents would come and go and I would still be there… in 15 years.
15
I wonder if I will be wearing the same jeans and Old Navy t-shirt, with my hair up in a pony tail. Will they refer to me as “that old crazy woman with all the band kids.” Will my husband continue to run marathons, but me… my braggin’ rights will be endless band concerts on rock hard bleachers listening to wobbly renditions of “Aura Lee.”
But I guess this is what I signed up for. I look across the gym and see Izzy waving at me from opposite bleachers where the 6th graders are waiting to perform. I wave back with a big smile and lots of kiss-blowing. I swell with joy as I watch a collection of little girls that Izzy met in 3rd grade who are now not-so-little perform flute solos, flute duets and trios, and a saxophone solo. These beautiful girls whose mothers I love and who were Izzy’s very first friends. I couldn’t help but bob my head a bit as they played. When they finished, they bend their heads to receive medals for their bravery and I snap pictures because they are soooo brave. So beautiful. I see Jade hanging out with her friends that she met in band — good, no, great kids who love music and Jesus and each other. I see the cute boy that knocked on our door to pick Jade up for youth group perform in a trombone trio and although I know Jade and he are just friends (really), I am glad that she knows him and that there are boys of his caliber in her life. And when the 8th grade band performs a overture from “The Music Man”, they are actually good. And fun to listen to. And I was proud of them all.
So, after the concert I went down to take the required pictures, which I now realize will be in every family photo album for the next (wait for it) 15 years.
My Band Kids
Which is very, very cool.
