Drum Lessons, Life Lessons, and Life in General

My boys are driving me bananas. They are all extremely bright. And extremely stubborn. What a combination.

My ten-year-old is taking drum lessons. It's his saving grace.

In school, he scores As on everything except organization and homework (because both are MIA on a daily basis). So when his report card arrives, I'm always shaking my head, saying, "Don't do what I did, do what I say" so that he can score at the top of his class where he belongs, instead of comfortable in the middle, with peaks ande valleys leading him above and below. All of the comments on his report card mention his lack of organization, missing homework, etc., etc. His planner skips pages, doubles back, and contains not one date.

That's why when I read his band teacher's comment, "Outstanding Work," I assumed that he had work that he didn't turn in (outstanding work). Boy was I wrong. His work is outstanding, meaning excellent. He now plays in Fifth Grade Band, Fifth Grade Jazz Band, Fifth Grade Orchestra, plus Fourth Grade Band and Orchestra.

He loves his drum teacher. Or at least, he used to, until today's lesson. Today, his drum teacher, after telling him for the umpteenth time to slow down, finally had enough: "Not everything needs to be fast. In fact, if you practice things slowly and don't make mistakes, it's easier to go fast and not make mistakes." Pause. "I've been doing this for 25 years. You DON'T know better than me." Pause. "No, you are not smarter than me, and you need to learn to listen to people who DO know more than you so that you can learn to be better at what you do."

That's my boy. My son knows more than EVERYONE. Me, Dad, his teacher, his friends....you name it, he knows more about it. When he's playing basketball, everyone is wrong - unless, of course, HE scores. When they're playing video games, no one is following the rules - unless, of course, HE beats them. It's a never-ending argument with everyone he knows. Frankly, I'm surprised he still has any friends at all.

Now, he doesn't want to take drum lessons anymore. In fact, he's ready to quit drums altogether. Ughhhhhhhhhh. "It's my prerogative!!! You can't force me to do it!!!"

"Actually, I can," said Bad Mommy ThatIAm. "I have invested more than $2,500 in lessons this year alone, and Grandma Crackers paid more than $500 for your fancy drum kit. You are now under contract through the end of fifth grade to be the best drummer you can be. After that, if you don't want to play in Middle School, no problem. But until then, you WILL play."

Pause. Longer Pause. "Mommy, I DO want to play the drums. I just don't want to take lessons anymore. I just want Mr. Mxxxxxx to teach me." (Mr. M is his school music teacher.)

Bottom line, he WILL be taking lessons. From the same teacher. And thank you, Great Teacher, for pointing out to him what we've been saying all along: While you may THINK you know everything, you really don't. Not even close.

I sure hope he learns that lesson sooner than I did.