Turnabout is Fair Play

There are some traits that I don't mind passing on to my kids;  My brown hair?  Fine.  My brown eyes?  No problem.  My second toe is longer than my big toe.  Not a big deal if my kids end up with that either. 

However, there are other traits that I'm not as sure that I want my kids to have;  My fingernails bend when they grow.  I have always disliked this and don't want them to have my deformed fingernails.  My toes creak and pop all the time.  This bugs me whenever I walk down the stairs, I hope they don't have this either (mostly because of the aches that go along with noisy toes).

Then there are some traits I have that it scares me to think that my kids might end up having too.  Recently, I recognized a trait in Conner that has me shaking in my parental boots.

It started as Conner and I sat at the piano together. We had just finished playing a duet of "She'll Be Comin' Around the Mountain" when we had the following conversation.

Me: "Conner, that was really good!  Make sure that you count out loud this time, okay?"

Conner:  Silence.     

Me:  "Conner?  Will you count out loud while we play it again?"

Conner:  Silence.

Me: Deciding to ignore being ignored and move on.  "Okay let's start at the beginning of the song, counting out loud."

We play the first few measures of the song, meanwhile Conner sits silently on the bench next to me.

Me:  "Okay.  Let's stop there and start at the beginning again.  We have to make sure to count out loud so we can stay together and get the timing right.  Okay?"

Conner:  Silence.

Me:  "Conner, do you understand why it's important to count out loud?

Conner:  "Yes."

Me:  "Alright, then, let's start at the beginning and we can count together."

We play the beginning of the song again.

Me:  "One, two, three, four.  One, two, three, four.  One, two, three, four...."

Conner:  Silence.

Me:  "Conner, are you counting?"

Conner:  "No."

Me:  "Why not?"

Conner:  Silence.

At this point, I had a vision of myself, sitting at the same piano in my childhood home.  When I was about 13 I decided that I was done taking piano lessons.  My mom tried her best to convince me to reconsider.

"Kari, you need to practice the piano now," my mom reminded me from the other room.  I put my fingers on the keys and played a stirring rendition of "Chopsticks."   

"Kari, that's not practicing.  Play your scales, okay?"

I said nothing.  Instead, I got up and went to the bathroom.

When I got back to the piano, my mom was waiting for me.  "You need to practice the piano.  Please sit down and play your scales."

I silently sat down and waited for my mom to leave the room.  When she was out of sight I plunked at the keys randomly until I heard her walk into the room again.

"Kari!  What are you doing?"

Silence.

"Please, practice your lesson!" my mom pleaded with me.

Without a word I diligently began practicing my scales... for five minutes, then I left the piano again and went into the kitchen for a drink.

This went on for several months.  My mom tried everything she could think of to get me to practice.  She grounded me, she bribed me, she hid money in the pages of my piano books, nothing worked.  After awhile she gave up and let me quit taking piano lessons.

Generally, I think that I was a pretty good kid.  I was usually very obedient but there were somethings that I would get very stubborn about.  I knew talking back would get me into trouble so instead I said nothing at all.  When my mind was made up my parents knew it because I became unusually quite, and no amount of convincing would change my mind.

My mind returned to the scene in front of me.  I looked over at my son who was staring silently ahead at the blank wall above the piano and I felt a bead of cold sweat run down the back of my neck.


What traits, good or bad, have you passed on to your children?  Tell me about it.