April 2012 Archives - mocha beanie mummy

Hell no, it’s not time. Yet.

April 30, 2012 By mocha beanie mummy 4 Comments

Last week, I picked up my cello for the first time in 14 months. I took it to a rehearsal I was assigned to photograph, though I left the cello in the car. It wasn’t a full rehearsal, it was just the strings, but the lovely conductor had invited me to play, if I wanted to.

So yeah, the cello sat in the car for a few hours.

I soon realised I wanted to take the cello out of the car, having photographed all I could under the circumstances, but I still wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to actually play it. So I spent maybe 15 minutes trying not to work myself into a frenzy, then took my cello out and sat down.

Of course they were all really welcoming; I couldn’t have asked for them to be lovelier about it.

But it felt weird. It didn’t feel wrong, but it didn’t exactly feel right.

I mean, I could still play, and all, but playing felt very detached, almost alien to me. There was little emotion in what I was playing (didn’t help that it was Mozart, who quite honestly, makes me want to ram my bow in my ear until it comes out the other side, and then move it back and forth desperately hoping to make my own music), and there was that immediate, weird sense of playing because I had to, rather than playing because I wanted to. It didn’t feel crap, but it didn’t feel good.

I think I was always one who never wanted to conform to the dots on the page.

I think this, because I do still want to get my cello out. I don’t want to play for anyone, I just want to play. I don’t know what, but that’s all there is to it. The danger there, though, is that I’ll get to the point where I’ll want someone to hear me play (lord only knows why), whether solo or orchestral. Perhaps because that’s all I know.

I’d love to get back into playing with a band, but so much of it was mundane, and the ONE band I adored playing with stopped performing shortly after I left.

I wondered if picking up my cello and playing again would be like slipping on a pair of jogging bottoms, you know, the favourite pair you’ve had for about 10 years, which you put back on as soon as they’re washed and dried, because they’re comfy; they’re your shape; they’re just right for you.

But it didn’t feel anything like that. Not at all. I’m not surprised, but I’m…I think I’m a little disappointed. I wanted to want to play. It wasn’t there. the spark is still dull.

I wonder if it will ever come back in full force?

Filed Under: Musician, neurosis, Ultimate Stresssss

Silent Sunday

April 29, 2012 By mocha beanie mummy 2 Comments

Filed Under: Silent Sunday

Stop being an ungrateful cow and hush your noise.

April 27, 2012 By mocha beanie mummy 12 Comments

Soooooooooo we’re pulling the boys out of their current private school. If we keep them in, it’s safe to say that they would be the most educated homeless kids in the area.

Which, I’m pretty sure, defeats the object somewhere.

(I can hear the whispers now; “Omg she’s whining about not being in private school? Welcome to the real world. Geeze.”)

Anyway, I’ve spent far too much of this week crying, because I knew it was coming. Actually that’s a lie – I have spent far too much of the last 24 hours crying because that’s how recently the decision has come to light. It’s not all about being upper class and living some kind of dream life. I don’t care about keeping up with the Jones’ because I know can’t do that personally. But I’m seriously fucking worried about the future of Noah and Isaac.

I have set high standards. Very fucking high standards. And what’s more, is that their (current) school met and surpassed my standards by far. Which means I raised my bar to meet them. So my standards are, uh, seriously fucking high.

The boys have a childhood. but the balance of their childhood along with their academics amazes me. The things they’ve learnt, seen and done. The things they want to do. The things they want to know. The way they learn. The way they just behave. The way they are.

A very wise friend of mine told me they didn’t get all that from the school, they’ll have gotten it from me. But I’m still terrified. I’m terrified of letting my standards slip. Of letting Noah and Isaac down, of not helping them maintain the level of excellence they currently have.

When I spoke to the admissions and financing lady person at the school, even she pointed out how they would most likely be much further ahead than children in state schools. Now, this sounds like I’m being an epic snob, but frankly? This pleases me. Not from a “my kid is better than your kid” attitude; I couldn’t give a shit what the next kid is doing, because they are not relevant to me. But what DOES concern me staying ahead of the game of life. Of being able to maintain a standard that, when they reach adulthood, is going to see them being incredibly level head yet always reaching goals.

Being successful. Wanting to achieve.

Am I being a snob? In someone else’s eyes, probably.

Do I want the absolutely fucking best for my kids, to give them what I couldn’t have, to educate them in a way that couldn’t be afforded for me too, to give them a grounding and sense of self that will secure them confidently for the foreseeable, well beyond their years?

Hell yes.

I don’t know what the next stage is. We’ve missed all the deadlines for state schools, and I don’t know what the fees are for other independent schools. Home schooling is not an option. I can only hope that my determination (read: stubborn attitude) to succeed in life is nested within The Boys.

They’ll be ok. I know. I think.

Filed Under: assvice, Education, Isaac, Noah, School, Ultimate Stresssss

Is it time?

April 18, 2012 By mocha beanie mummy 6 Comments

It’s been over a year.

I watched these two videos (for the umpteenth time) last night, and wondered, again, if I was missing out.

Wondered, again, if I shouldn’t have stopped.

This weekend, I commence a new photography job.

It’s photographing a small orchestra.

It’s the orchestra I left, the last one, who kept pushing me on for that last year, making it bearable for me. Making it all hurt a little less. They said “bring your cello, it would be lovely if you played with us too.” I want to. I think.

I still hurt. I know.

Is it too soon? I don’t know.