Yesterday I discovered that Oldest created computer files for his sisters. For their writing. He already had his own, so now four of us have Very Important Things on this computer, and when it crashes, four of us will be inconsolable. Do I want everybody to have their own files on this computer for their writing? Not exactly. I would be very happy if they would just use the journals they have, or the notebooks I got them, or even if they would stuff loose papers full of writing in the already-overstuffed drawers they have for schoolwork.
But last night everybody was glowing about their writing. I guess I’ve modeled that well. It makes me wonder what the house would look like if I modeled regular floor-scrubbing. Youngest, in fact, did end up making her own loose-leaf notebook to go along with her computer file. She carried it around with great love and many flourishes, informing me that it contained her “most famous words.” And she volunteered to pray at dinner, thanking God not only for the food and the wonderful, wonderful day, but also “for changing my mind about my brother.”
Good bow technique requires a loose grip. This is one of the things I am working on with my violin students. Very often our instinct is to hold the bow tighter in order to maintain control, when really what we need to do is loosen up and allow the bow to do what it was made to do. That’s always been a challenge for me, personally—guiding my bow with a gentle, relaxed hand—but it is essential if you want to have any sort of advanced technique. And so, another lesson from my imaginary file, “Things I learned in violin that I need to apply better to parenting in particular and life in general.”
Still, I think I want my own computer.
