On Friday I finally sat down with Lydia to help her practice the harp after being delinquent about this for far too long. Because I was well-rested, the house was clean, and I felt energy, I thought I would be able to manage just being a positive, loving coach for the practice. After about an hour and a half of Lydia’s screaming and throwing herself on the ground, my ability to cheerfully help her work through her difficulties started to wear down. When she threw herself screaming on the ground for the umpteenth time, I told her she had to practice the passage 76 times (we had worked our way up to this number because I would add repetitions for the screams), and then I excused myself. She ran screaming to the bathroom while I shoveled as much food down as I could to eat away all of my emotions and then locked myself in my room to calm down.
We are coming up to the point where we need to buy Lydia a new harp. This will cost $12,000. I am really conflicted about this. I wonder if this is a wise investment, considering after three years of harp practice, Lydia still screams, cries, and throws herself on the ground almost every time I ask her to work on a passage. In the moment, it is really hard to see how this is beneficial to anyone. On the other hand, she has to learn how to do hard things, and her life is otherwise a joy ride. I don’t know. We’ll probably bite the bullet, buy the harp, and keep throwing ourselves on the sword of practice for the next ten years. I am really depressed at the thought, honestly.
When Abe came home from work we cleaned the house, packed the car, and drove down to Goblin Valley. We arrived at midnight, and the sky was INCREDIBLE. I have never in my life seen such a magnificent night sky. Goblin Valley’s campground is in the middle of nowhere and the sky went on forever. The stars were crystal clear, and we could see the milky way and so many shooting stars. The kids woke up to transfer to our tent, which we had set up without a rain fly so that they could enjoy the stars from their sleeping bags. I didn’t even get a chance to point out the sky before they all, even in their sleepy state, exclaimed at the sky. Three of them fell asleep marveling at it.
The fourth, Clarissa, was so excited to be awake and in the tent at midnight that she ran around bouncing on the blow up bed, yelling excitedly, and climbing over everyone in fits of joy. Abe ended up taking her out until 1:30am, at which point I took over until after 3am. I let her crawl all over me in the car, and right before 3, when I was resigning myself to the idea that it couldn’t get worse, Clarissa found an open bag of crackers in the back seat. And then she poured the bag over me. While I was sitting there in the dark with crackers all over me trying to figure out what to do next, she grabbed some laughing cow cheese and squeezed it out, making a giant sticky mess. I cleaned up the crackers and the cheese, and after that I held her firmly against my chest and patted her back while she cried in protest. Finally, she got tired of crying and started settling down. I asked her if she wanted her bottle, to which she cried, “Bod’l! Bod’l!”
So I put her down, gave her a bottle, and held my breath hoping she would sleep. It took probably an extra fifteen minutes for her to fall asleep because every five minutes she would say, “Mama! Sta’s!” (“stars!”), and I’d say, “Yes, Clarissa, the stars are so pretty! It’s sleepy time.” We did that a bunch and then she finally, finally fell asleep.
Okay, it was a nightmare being awake until 3am, but the sky made it worth it. I would do it again just to see that sky. It really was that beautiful.