WordSisters

Genetics or Childrearing?

Elizabeth di Grazia

January 29, 2014
At some point all adoptive parents ask themselves this question. Maybe biological families do as well, but I wouldn’t know about that. What I do know is that Crystel sings, not only in the shower but in her bedroom, in the living room, on her way to the bus and … you get my snowdrift … she is warm to the idea of singing anywhere. On the other hand, you don’t hear a peep out of me.

Tia Anna sharing her joy of music with Crystel. Crystel started lessons at 7 and took them for about 4 years.

Now, is this because I don’t have the talent, or is it because singing wasn’t nurtured growing up in my family of 14? “You could have had your own softball team,” people would say. Well, we could have had a pretty darn good choir, too. Well … maybe not.

I did belong to a choir in middle school, mostly because my best friend joined and harangued me into joining with her. My group of friends thought it was funny to stop the entire choir from making any noise while I was doing my solo to see where I would fit in the choir. The choir director noticed the quiet and admonished them. Guess what? I’m an alto.

Antonio and Crystel have taken piano and drum lessons. Crystel is looking forward to learning flute in middle school. I was in band as well. First cornet and then French horn … you guessed it … right next to my best friend. The band teacher couldn’t hold himself back once and called me “cabbage ears.”

Antonio giving a recital. He took piano lessons for one year and drum lessons for one year.

Though I enjoyed playing the French horn, he also told me, “Don’t worry about playing, just march and try to keep in step with everybody else.”

Genetics or childrearing?

Antonio is an artist. He can look at a picture of a Pokemon and sketch it exactly. He’s been doing this for years. I used to ask him if he traced the Pokemon. I knew he didn’t—I watched him as he drew it. For the past few years he has been taking requests for drawings from his classmates.

“I stole a drawing in seventh grade once,” I told him. “It didn’t have a name on it and so I put on mine and handed it in as my own.”

“What happened?” he asked.

“The art teacher said I stole the persons sketch who was the best artist in the entire class. Funny thing, I was trying to take the one that I thought could pass as mine. The scary thing was that the drawing belonged to the sheriff’s kid and I didn’t know it at the time. I had to find him in school and apologize.”

To this day, I hate Pictionary. I can’t even draw an accurate stick person.

Genetics or childrearing?

Perhaps it is a little of both. Jody and I encourage Crystel to sing unless it’s bedtime. Antonio hits his sketchpad when his allotment of electronics time is used up. Already, he says that he wants to be an artist and I’m helping him to understand that could mean many professions: architecture, theatre backdrops, book illustrator, and so on.

Whether its genetics or childrearing, it is great to watch something so foreign sprouting in our house.
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Adoption, mentoring, Motherhood, Raising children
2 responses to “Genetics or Childrearing?”
1. Elizabeth di Grazia
  
  January 30, 2014
  
  Bonnie,
  
  It’s by Famous Dave’s in Linden Hills. A nice place for lunch or dinner. And … a little piano music.
2. Bonnie Gruberman
  
  January 29, 2014
  
  Beth, where is this purple piano? in Richfield?
Middle Age Is The Richest Time

Ellen Shriner

January 22, 2014
When my husband said, “Middle age is the richest time,” I thought, “No way.” Too often, middle age feels like loss—of youth, of a sense of possibility, of elders I love.

No denying, those really are jowls, and since I’m not inclined to have plastic surgery, they’re here to stay. Lovely.

The big 6-0 isn’t that far off and I meant to have accomplished more—published more for sure.

My 92-year-old Mom is slipping a lot faster. Her short-term memory has gone on strike, so we have the same conversations again and again. “Are you coming for the baby shower? No Mom, I can’t. I’ll be in Arizona that weekend,” and the next day, “Are you coming to the baby shower? No, Mom . . . ” At 90, she managed her household and finances. Now her kids take care of that. To be expected, but still. I miss her smart competent self.

As Dad, who died three years ago would say, “Aging isn’t for the faint of heart.” No kidding.

So I had to know why my husband, who isn’t prone to positive affirmations or yippee-skippiness of any sort, would say middle age is the richest time.

“Because at middle age, you can see forward and you can see back. We can vividly recall the experiences our kids are having and we can see how it we’ll be in 30 years.” Hmmm, maybe.

As each of our sons approached their senior year in college, leaving college for the so-called “real world” looked scary to them. My 22-year-old self was panicky, “Whoa, I gotta get serious. I gotta get a plan. But I don’t have a clue.”

When each son moved to his first apartment, I recalled how much fun it was to make a place my own. Like mine, their places were furnished with a combination of hand-me-downs and the discount store shower curtain and towels they chose for themselves.

When they talk about their girlfriends, I remember the low hum of excitement I felt when I was going out with someone new. I know what a milestone it is to realize that even though I had a fight with the guy I was dating, we worked through it and we were still together.

So from the vantage point of middle age, I think, “Yes, it is a rich time. I’ve experienced so many things. I know so much more about life. My guys will figure it out too as they get older.”

Then the glow of that wisdom and those fine memories fades a little. I think of Mom again and dread her loss and the loss of my own capabilities as I age. I tell my husband, “I look at Mom and I’m afraid I’ll be just like her. I forget stuff now!” He wisely says, “Yeah, but your 90’s are a lo o n n ng way off. Don’t waste today worrying about what may or may not happen tomorrow.”

So I pull back from the brink. This man, this life. I am rich.

How do you view middle age? If you’re not there yet, what do you expect? If you’re already middle-aged, what’s it look like?
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Age, Aging parents, Baby Boomers, Family
Bam! Another one off the bucket list.

Elizabeth di Grazia

January 16, 2014
Many, many years ago I heard a person say, “Do what you want to do if it is neither illegal nor dangerous.” I embodied that message, and for me, a dog show falls in that category. I’ve always wanted to go to one. I don’t know why. This was one of those wants that wasn’t a high priority but was always there niggling in the back of my head.

A dog show falls into, “Oh, that’s different” category. I mean, who goes to dog shows? Exactly.

When a family has so many options for weekend activities, a dog show could end up being too piddling of a niggle to ever come to fruition.

The funniest dog show our family has ever stumbled on was years ago at the Minnesota State Fair when we chanced upon an agility contest in the round barn. Agility is the ultimate game for a dog and its handler. I’ve always hoped that lucky accident would repeat itself, but it never happened again.

Jody has been interested in participating in dog agility shows. But, the closest we have come to being a contender is Jody teaching the dog to roll over and to shake hands. All my research shows that this does not make us a contender.

As you can tell already the ‘dog show sport’ only interests me as an observer and if I was ever going to get to a dog show, I would need to be purposeful.

In the Sunday paper I saw the advertisement: Land O’Lakes Kennel Club presents its annual dog show at Saint Paul RiverCentre from Friday – Sunday, January 3-5.

I could take care of a niggling want once and for all!

More than 2,000 purebred canines – from big to small, hunting to herding, working and terrier, and even lap dogs – would compete for American Kennel Club (AKC) awards.

It sounded exciting. I probed the Internet to see if I could find the schedule so the day could actually be a planned outing.

A schedule was not to be found.

Still, I planned, I even dealt in a little subterfuge with Jody, and we kept our outing from Antonio and Crystel until we were on our way to St. Paul. The only thing they could get out of me was that it was spelled d. o. g.

Now that the event is over, I need to tell you that the excitement was not the dog show itself but our clandestine approach to the event, the traveling in the car to St. Paul, parking in the RiverCentre parking ramp, and cartwheeling our way to the show.

A dog show is one of those things that you don’t have to do again. I kept wanting a bit more. But, a bit more was not to be had. You could say that it was all fluff and prettiness. None of the dirt and grit that I love.

What was most interesting about the dog show is that I saw two other writers who were checking out the show. That’s who go to dog shows? Writers? I made the most of it and introduced my family to Stephanie Wilbur Ash and Geoff Herbach. Every opportunity I have I point out to Antonio and Crystel that real people write books. “Can you believe it,” I said, “You are standing next to I’M WITH STUPID and STUPID FAST?”

This year, if your want isn’t illegal or dangerous, go for it! Just make sure you enjoy the ride. That might be your take-away.
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Bucket List, Family, Raising children, Writing
2 responses to “Bam! Another one off the bucket list.”
1. Shelly Najjar
  
  January 16, 2014
  
  This is great! I’m excited you got to do something on your list that was important to you.
  1. Elizabeth di Grazia
    
    January 16, 2014
    
    Thanks Shelly for reading.