Cranky Suzuki Mom

Ok, so I went off on the violin teacher today. Well, not really, but I wasn't polite. She's exactly what you would imagine a violin teacher to be like. Quirky, cranky. When we first decided Charlie was going to take Suzuki Violin Silly Me assumed our instructor would be Japanese. Nope, she's this upper middle class white American woman who is about 60 years old, and have I mentioned she's cranky? The mom of Charlie's friend said to me "I think Elyse is a little scared of Miss Ginny" to which I replied "Well, Miss Ginny is scary."

First let me describe the room. It's about 10 feet by 20 feet and it's filled with little tables and chairs. It's really a classroom in a church, that only seconds as The Central Ohio School for Suzuki Instruction. So we all cram in this room, ten or so kids with violins, their moms, quite a few siblings and Miss Ginny. I take Max and Atticus along because I refuse to double the cost of Suzuki Violin by hiring a sitter every week. Usually they do well. They play with the other siblings, the kids all share Goldfish Crackers, read books, color, whatever. Usually it's pretty mild. The last few weeks, though, all the kids have been kind of whack. It's probably a summer thing. Last week the room was particularly crowded because of the table/chair configuration and the siblings also were kind of raucus. We moms were doing our best to keep the siblings quiet and be the proper Suzuki Mom. To be honest, the kids weren't being particularly loud or anything but twice Miss Ginny yelled "Kids, be quiet." Yeah, right. You might as well tell a bunch of two and three-year-olds to be loud, it doesn't make a difference.

I gave it a lot of thought throughout the following week. I figured I would bring some toys and let the boys play in the hallway just outside the door. That way I could keep and eye on them and their noise wouldn't be disruptive. So wrong was I. When Miss Ginny busted into the room like the Witch Hazel on Sylvester and Tweetie (you know, the one whose hairpins are always a step behind her) the first thing she croaks is "Whose trucks are in the hallway?"

"Mine," I replied. "I was hoping to lure my kids out there since you yelled at them last week."

Without even looking at me she said "Well, we can't have kids in the hallway."

Next week I'm just going to have to just take a Xanax.