So "jammin'" might be a stretch right now, but he is well on his way. A few months ago he came to me and asked for a guitar and guitar lessons. On the inside I was jumping up and down yelling "yes, Yes, YES!!", but the responsible mom was the voice he heard. "You want to play the guitar? Well, if you save enough to pay for half, dad and I will match that." Again the voice inside, "please, please be committed enough to reach this goal." Troy and I have always encouraged our kids to try new things but we have always wanted to know if it was something they really wanted versus a cool idea that won't last long. To curb the ideas and really foster the true desires we place a little responsibility on them. Usually that responsibility comes in the form of cash. We offer extra ways that they can earn money around the house, (read, chores that I hate that they can do for me :) This guy totally came through. He worked like a mad man, he cleaned up the yard after Troy trimmed the side bushes/trees and that in itself was no small feat. He worked really hard. We stopped at the music store at the beginning of this little venture so he would know how much to save and in a little over two months he was there and we went and picked out this beautiful instrument.
A little side story on the reason the voice inside my head cheered so loudly is that I have always wanted a guitar. In fourth and fifth grade it was nearly an obsession for me. I saved my money and dragged my mom to the store so I could caress and ogle over the guitar that I knew would soon be mine. I had $75 dollars saved, I only needed $25 more and would own my dream. Then my dad talked to me. He asked about lessons and how I would pay for them, and if I knew anyone who would be able to teach me. I didn't, my hopes fell a little. Then he pointed out that if I had the guitar but didn't know how to play it then it would be a waste of all that hard earned money. My hopes continued to fall. By the end of the conversation that grown up responsible person that has lived inside me even when I was little took over and I had decided to buy a bike instead. It made more sense, it was much more practical. Some of you may think my dad was wrong to talk me out of a dream, but before you make a rash judgement let me just say he was right. He knew something that I didn't, I don't even think he knew he knew. But that bike became a symbol of my ability to take care of myself. After my mom passed away the next year, and I didn't have someone readily available to drive me places, that blue 12 speed took me all over, I rode to piano lessons, friends houses, the store in the little town nearby, cheerleader practice and eventually to drivers ed every day until I got my license. That bike gave me the ability to achieve many more dreams that I had, and it was MINE, I bought it, I had ownership in that thing and that meant the world to me. So I thank my dad for the practical side that he blessed me with and now with all my 11 year old heart I am cheering on my cute son to make that guitar sing the way I always wished I could. Because I know he worked for it and he wants to. He goes into his room and practices when he is done with chores, not because I told him to but because he loves it. Good job J.T.!! I love you!!
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