Tuesday is my most stressful day of the week. It’s the day that ends with bus duty, often followed by a parent call or meeting, and always leading to a rushed pick-up at Number Two’s school. That leaves me with about half an hour to stuff something edible in the boys’ faces before I have to drive my nine year old and his friend to Choir Practice.
When he was a toddler, my oldest son seemed destined for athletics. After all, Daddy is a fabulous hockey player (so I’m told), plays squash and tennis, cycles and dabbles with running. I spent years teaching aerobics and have since cycled (easily logging close to 200 weekly miles before children) and run- well (yes, some days I just need to toot my own horn). But I also have a strong background in music, which seems to have a stronger genetic component than fitness. Instead of being the mom who is rushing off to soccer practice, I am rushing off to music lessons, choir rehearsals and concerts.
Music has taken over our lives. My oldest plays the piano and sings in two different choirs (three, if you include the boy choir that branches from one of the others). The only thing that I can plan for on any Tuesday now is choir, which takes 2 to 3 hours when you factor in the driving time, followed by a mad dash to finish homework. This means that Tuesday is usually a non-running night for me.
If it isn’t enough that I have to plan my runs around rehearsals and classes, I even have to plan races around concerts. I was considering running the Ottawa Marathon in May but the date is the same weekend as Number 1’s final concert of the year. So, I quickly put that goal aside and appeased myself by entering a 5K race closer to home the next day instead; that makes it harder to say “Grrr”.
Tonight, my hectic, crazy Tuesday choir night seemed worth all the effort. My little maestro learned that he won the poetry contest that he entered in the fall. It has been set to music and his choir will be debuting it on the night of his final concert in May, the night before my 5K in Toronto.
The theme of the competition was rhythm, music and song so there shouldn’t be any surprise that the first words are about recess: 3, 2, 1, Let’s Go! It sounds a bit like the start of a race, doesn’t it? I guess the athletic genes did find their way into chromosome pool after all.