You’re—dare I say—back into piano. You transcribed the melody for “Character” that you learned in music class and have practiced it every night, along with flourishes of other songs you already know. I learned music the same way—figuring out songs by ear—and it’s a trip to watch you do the same. Mom put an app in front of you so you could practice more formally. You tried it for a night, then went right back to deconstructing music on your own.
The activity is contagious. I find myself sitting at the piano after you. Sometimes I learn something new; often I return to parts of songs I’ve written or know. For the first time in what feels like years, I wrote something new. Nothing fancy—just an E to C chord, trying to figure out how to make a chorus work in some G progression. Some songs I figure out in a night. This one will take time. No lyrics yet. Those come later—or not at all. Mom asks if I should write it down so I don’t forget. I probably should do a quick phone recording, but usually the music sticks after a night of playing.
We’re in the midst of the holidays, so we should probably be playing more “Jingle Bells” and “Carol of the Bells.” The Christmas magic is alive and well. I was a little concerned that you or Matteo might start asking more questions after our trip to Michaels, where Elf on the Shelf was merchandised front and center, boxes of elves piled high. Instead, you told us the elves probably get their magic once they enter a home—so you explained the magic yourself. I’m sure you’re hearing all kinds of stories about Christmas magic at school, and maybe you’re even playing along for us. I don’t mind keeping the spirit and mystery alive. I know I’ll miss it.
As we enter these pre-teen years, Mom and I go back and forth about how much we should push you to grow up faster. As the first-born, there’s no older sibling showing you what’s next. Your bedroom has been a point of focus. There’s a lot packed into that room—books, stuffies, art. We don’t think you need an “older” room yet, but we are trying to reduce the clutter, which means donating or letting go of some “younger” toys and dolls. It’s a balance: figuring out what still matters to you and what you’re growing out of. Good news—we made it through a lot of wall-to-wall decisions, and your room now feels less like a museum of your life and more like the room a 10-year-old needs.
We also need to make some space, because Christmas is right around the corner—and I’m pretty sure a few new things will want to take center stage.
Love,
Dad