When we were still living in DC, Andrew and I entertained the idea of starting a music group in our home for the neighborhood kids. Before that, I had attended a library story hour in Baltimore with my best friend Mary and her little one, long ago when he and Milo were still in diapers and actually just learning how to crawl. I loved the energy this librarian brought to the group every week. And we noticed, as the group grew bigger and bigger, stuffed into a hot library room like sweaty sardines, that the neighborhood obviously loved it as well.
In DC, I attended a story hour at the local library and was sorely disappointed. It was sooooo bad. And so, spoiled by the experience, we discussed starting our OWN music group. But Andrew’s schedule and the apparent lack of young stay-at-home parents in our neighborhood stood in our way.
I remember a conversation I had with Mary right before moving to St. Louis. It was a good talk, though interrupted occasionally by our two rambunctious young men running, whapping, and terrorizing the woods where we stood. Still, the conversation somehow continued, in fragments. It was about creating the lives that we wanted. Vocalizing goals. A “Five-Year Plan,” so to speak. I rambled on, something about a garden, doing better with the blog, staying at home and less rushing around, and… the music group.
And somehow, I think in great part to that conversation, those goals are being realized. We are doing those things to be done… someday, now. And I miss Mary. A ton. Because she is the one who brought this whole idea about these specific goals into my life. Being a stay-at-home mom can be difficult in the goal-setting arena, because every day, simple goals, like cleaning (or just cleaning up), getting the kids dressed and fed, washing, playing and reading and disciplining, putting a nourishing dinner on the table every night, laundry, naps, and alllllll the other stuff in-between… well, those goals are sometimes the only goals that are reached. And sometimes even those goals are left un-achieved.
But, no excuses. Those things will get done. Or not. And life will keep chugging on and before you know it you will have a spotless, and empty, house.
And so, every other Tuesday morning, at 9:15am, we are music group. We are loud, and sing-songy, and ridiculous and probably made fun of behind our own backs. And as 13 children and their caregivers (we were missing three families the day we took this picture) gather in our dining room for coffee and snacks, then our living room for guitar music and children’s songs, we are what we said we would be. Except, I wish we had done this all along.
Mary, I miss you and can’t wait to see you. Thank you for being an inspiration!