My son. He is an athlete at his core. He came swinging a bat out of the womb.
OK, not really. But he did walk out, talking about how hot he was for 9 months.
OK. Another exaggeration.
My son is a natural at almost everything he tries. But we have found his weak spots. They include, but are not currently limited to: roller skating, skate boarding, and playing an instrument. Also, he dances like Elaine from Seinfeld.
While he has plenty of hand/eye coordination, he lacks balance for things that involve wheels.
And although he can sing like a pro, hitting every note perfectly (though don't ask him to do this for you. he will feign an inability.), he can not play the recorder for the love of all that is good.
Today I drove him to school. He had all week last week during spring break to practice for his latest "belt test" with the recorder. He had to play Amazing Grace. So he pulled out the recorder in the car and started playing.
Which brings me back to a time in my life when I called my doctor's office from my closet. The sound of my children's voices was reminding me of nails on a chalkboard. They promptly required my presence in their office within the hour. That was rough. But not to worry, it was fleeting.
However, I digress. Sort of. See, this morning in my car as the captive audience to the worst recorder performance I had ever bore witness to, I wanted to hide in my closet. It hurt. Like, painful. Painful.
But I powered through, like a good mom, and even tried to sing along, to help him hear the error in his ways. When we finished, he said, "Thanks Mom. That helped!"
To which, I replied, "Honey, you're welcome. But don't quit your day job. Did you practice last week when you had time?"
"No. I was busy! Playing games and sleeping in!"
"OK! Well, just be prepared. This may be the first B you've ever gotten in your life." (trying to toss in a little guilt for the lack of preparation)
"What? First, Mom, they don't give As and Bs in Music. And second, WOW! You're not even being encouraging!"
"Honey!! You are good at so many things! You just can't play the recorder well at all! But I love you! You are an awesome athlete and you're so smart! We all have our gifts. Yours just isn't music."
I'm happy to report that the whole time I'm telling him he stinks and his recorder skills have made my ears bleed, he's giggling. And when I finished my monologue on how great he is, minus playing Amazing Grace, he burst out laughing.
Luckily we've instilled laughter into our kids and being able to laugh at oneself often in our home. If nothing else, he's well adjusted.