The girls enjoy sitting with me in the choir and they have learned most of the music at this point, so they are helpful contributors to the Liturgy. However, they are also my children, and they prefer the choir experience to be carried out while simultaneously full-on interacting with me.
Today was an especially high stakes choir day, as our director was out of town, so we had one of our choir members (and former directors) fill in as guest conductor. Our usual director gives us pitches from his tuning fork, so when he's not there, the job of giving pitches falls on me. This requires me to look ahead at each upcoming thing we're about to sing, so that I can gauge the interval between the soprano and alto parts and give accurately spaced starting pitches for the two voice parts. And because we are in the period following Easter, there is a lot of different music being substituted for things we normally sing, as the text of the Liturgy changes weekly for the 40 days after Easter. So, needless to say, I had to concentrate extra hard to try and stay on the ball today.
Don't worry, though, the kids made SURE I didn't forget about them. First of all, regardless of how much space we have around us, the girls prefer to stand with their bodies pressed against mine, rather than spreading out to the sides of me. If I move at all to get myself some air, they just move their bodies, in blob-like fashion, right up against wherever I moved to. This is pretty much our stance throughout every Sunday Liturgy:
Sometimes Madeleine gets in even closer and stands directly in front of me, leaning back against my body. We get NIIIICE and cozy together.
Sometimes Madeleine likes to play games that she doesn't explain to me, like today, when I was frantically searching through my music folder for a substitute piece we were about to sing, and Madeleine decided it was fun to try and step on my feet with one of her feet. No matter where I moved to in order to get out from under her foot, she would stretch her body, keeping one foot firmly planted, so that the other foot could reach and step upon my feet.
Sometimes the kids get in whispered, heated arguments with each other, like when Madeleine hurt Julia's feelings today.
ME: (whispering fiercely) What's the problem?
JULIA: (whispering fiercely) I don't LIKE when Madeleine says mean things. She's always hurting my FEELINGS.
ME: (whispering back) Okay, just drop it for now.
JULIA: (whispering louder) But she says things like "I can't touch you because you have WARTS" and it makes me feel like I'm BAD-
ME: (whispering) Just drop it for now.
JULIA: (whispering) But-
ME: Shh.
JULIA: But-
Sometimes, Madeleine likes to criticize me if I sing something wrong, or even when I don't.
ME: (singing) A-men.
MADELEINE: (standing in front of me, with her body pressed against mine, tilting her head backwards to look up at me) You sang "O-men."
ME: No I didn't.
MADELEINE: You did! You sang "O-men!"
Madeleine also took issue with the fact that I was giving pitches to the choir, despite the fact that I had been asked to do it.
SUBSTITUTE CHOIR DIRECTOR: (cuing me for pitches)
ME: (singing two pitches) Doo, doo.
MADELEINE: Shh! Mommy! Stop DOING that!
If I'm extra lucky, like I was today, some small minor thing happens and one kid or another CAN'T. GET. OVER. IT. As I was searching for yet another extra, different piece of music we were about to sing, I knocked a small, laminated icon off of my music stand. I hadn't put the icon there; it had been on the stand when I first put my music book down, and it happened to flutter off as I rifled around for music.
ME: (trying to sing)
MADELEINE: Why did you do that?
ME: (trying to sing)
MADELEINE: Mommy. Look. Look what you dropped.
ME: (trying to sing)
MADELEINE: Mommy. Down there. Mommy. Why did you put that down there?
ME: (trying to sing) Mommy. Why did you put that on the floor?
Break in music. I reached down to pick the icon up and return it to my stand.
ME: (resuming singing)
MADELEINE: Mommy. Why did you pick that up?
ME: (trying to sing)
MADELEINE: Why did you do that, Mommy? Why did you pick that up?
ME: (trying to sing)
MADELEINE: Mommy. Why did you do that?
And BEST OF ALL is when one of the kids gets upset about something that really, really doesn't matter, and decided to grouchily perseverate on it for the rest of the church service.
Upon glimpsing the selfie I took (posted above) of us all cramped together, Madeleine decided that her head is not round enough for her liking.
ME: (trying to sing)
MADELEINE: My head is like THIS big (making a tiny circle with her thumb and finger)
ME: (trying to sing)
MADELEINE: I have a SKINNY HEAD.
ME: (trying to sing)
MADELEINE: Julia has WAY more of a pumpkin head than me.
JULIA: (trying to sing)
MADELEINE: (grabbing Julia's face to try and measure it with her hands.
ME: (trying to sing)
MADELEINE: I do NOT have a round head. I have a TINY head.
This went on for at least 10 minutes. Madeleine kept this grumpy puss on her face the whole time:
Man, look at that skinny head.
But substitute director, kid distractions and all, we made it through, and upon returning home, I discovered that Madeleine wasn't done with her games.
MADELEINE: Okay, Mommy. Try and RESPOND to this with words. (pounding her hands on the table five times in a row.)
ME: Uh...yes.
MADELEINE: No, Mommy.
ME: Oh. (pounding my hand once for "yes.")
MADELEINE: No, Mommy. You have to RESPOND to what you think I'm doing, with WORDS.
(pounding on the table five times in a row again.)
This went on for some time, and I had to have Ethan find out what Madeleine meant and give me a big hint in order to respond correctly. And seriously, what kind of a dunce am I? It turned out that Madeleine was pounding out the syllables of "Christos Anesti!" ("Christ is Risen!") and I was supposed to say "Alithos anesti!") ("Truly He is Risen!") in response. What kind of a blockhead *doesn't* IMMEDIATELY think of that when her child is pounding on the table?!?!?
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