Saturday afternoon, after an hour of picking blueberries under the sun, my friend Laura and I took the kids to find a place to eat along the main street in the tiny town of Arcadia. Like popped turkey timers, their red cheeks, sticky hair and incessant whining informed they were done, and the only hope we had was food. A brick oven pizzeria looked promising, and upon entering, we were pleasantly surprised: right-off-the-streets-of-Rome charm enhanced by Italian music and made even more perfect by a table with a corner nook that housed our stroller. I pride myself for my glass-is-half-full outlook, but there isn’t a unicorn in the world sparkly enough to change my field of vision upon walking into a restaurant with all three kids at this point in my life. Even in the charmingest of scenes, I see an hourglass timer with a really big hole, and sand is falling fast. In my head, I hear “Relax, enjoy yourself, this is special” but it echos as “Order quick, brace yourself, get the back-ups.” Back-ups include things in the “restaurant bag” if I remember to bring it but more likely oyster crackers the waitress gives us and strange objects in the bottom of my purse that might pass as toys. They may also include, if necessary, iPhones and lipstick as well as jelly & sugar packets–or, as we like to call them table gifts (oh, you know you’ve done it). In this particular restaurant instance, after a delicious round of breadsticks and ten minutes of Level 2 Restaurant Behavior (1 being quietly seated and pleasantly engaged, 10 being “Check please” followed by the entire restaurant clapping as you leave), Nella and Dash started to get a little twitchy–but nothing a few shakes of parmesan cheese couldn’t solve. Shake shake on a spoon, they eat it, they like it, they ask for more. Shake shake on a spoon, they eat it, they like it, they ask for more. We made it through the pizza, with hourglass sand depleting about as fast as the parmesan cheese and R.B. levels increasing. They were tired. They wanted down. We took turns entertaining Dash, and I overcompensated for my frustration with instinctive people pleasing. This is what I do in kid restaurant situations: tip well, clean the table, get on the floor and pick up the cracker pieces, leave a note for the waitress like my dad always did growing up: “You were awesome! Thank you for being patient with the kids!”
As we approached a Level 10 and I was forced to call time of death on our charming pizzeria experience, I suddenly noticed the music that was accompanying our exit–my favorite opera aria, Nessun dorma, the exact part that gives me goosebumps–the part that makes me close my eyes and imagine I’m front row at the opera and Andrea Bocelli is singing it live, to me, and I’m feeling all the feels, crying in my black dress in the dark auditorium because my soul is being wrung out by the greatest musical crescendo that ever was (sorry, give a girl a gay dad….). It was playing in this little Italian pizzeria as I threw my credit card at Laura (“Here! Finish! Pay! I’m out of here!”) and slung a flailing child over my shoulder. Even in that chaos, I felt it–the music, the goosebumps, the depth of feeling buried in all moments, taking flight given a good accompanying song. It was both beautiful and humorous, how perfectly timed it was. We were the final act, storming out in a dramatic scene of crying children, thrashing bodies, stroller wheels catching on chairs and dining patrons making way for our exit as the music dramatically built and a tenor roared in Italian, “Vincerò! VinCEEEEERRRRRRò!”–which, come to find out, coincidentally means, “I will win! I will win!” I’ve taken it upon myself to make Nessun dorma (translated, “None Shall Sleep”) my three-kids-seven-and-under parenting theme song. All’alba vincerò!: At dawn, I will win!
Oh hey, Dash. I see your dumped powder all over that dresser and those pictures you tore down. All’alba vincerò.
If opera can make tragedy beautiful and people pay money to feel the intensity of emotions that come from putting music to stories, then surely we could all benefit from more music. More theme songs for dramatic exits, more arias for quiet days, more lyrics remembered and tunes recalled and symphonies composed in our heads to pull all the feelings from these fleeting moments.
There are lyrical nuggets buried in every event of life. Under the sun in the blueberry patch this past Saturday, I wiped sweat from my brow, grabbed an empty bucket and watched my kids taste their world while I hummed my own soundtrack–here comes the sun and blue skies shining at me, nothing but blue skies…
A playlist comeback of some current favorites (some old, some new) that we’re listening to on Spotify these days (right scroll down for more)…
…and some blueberry patch music in pictures.
Bee crate love–look at all those colors!
Catching blueberries in her mouth…
…and more music found in the downtown streets of Arcadia, lined with antique shops and colorful charm…
“Stand By Me” and “Under the Boardwalk” from an old juke box accompanied our ice cream…
And the final stamp of a good day: an opera house. Where beautiful music meets good stories.
Well, and our van, on the way back Saturday: crying kids, spilled juice, missed naps–good stories made better by the songs we listened to on the long drive home.
Turn it up. At dawn, we will win!
Kelle~I’m so glad you blog. Your posts never fail to uplift me. Loving, in no particular order…
Lainey’s hair
Colorful crates
Flying blueberries
Nella’s face
Gay dads
Pink bicycles & pink glass draw pulls
Dash
and You
You noticed pink glass draw pulls.
You are a kindred spirit.
xo
Kelle – I have read and loved your blog for years. Reading your words is always like eating something scrumptious. I loved all of this – maybe because I have two young ones myself and know EXACTLY what you described here. The table gifts and the restaurant bag of things you can occupy your children with so they aren’t overly annoying others there. Oh my – it’s always an experience! But Nessun Dorma – has always, always been my most favorite piece of music of all time. And how you described the chills and the feels at the crescendo of that piece is EXACTLy how I feel each time I hear it. My breath quickens and my heart beats harder and it is seriously one of the most amazing pieces of music ever composed. Anyway – all of this brought some kind of melodic piece to my soul somehow. Wanting to pay extra special attention to the music around me today. Your writing is a gift Kelle – thank you for reaching in and touching my soul today.
Aw, thank you! And YES! You get it. The Nessun Dorma magic. Chills every time.
RB gets so much better with age… it just never feels like it in the moment!
On the positive side – you nailed it with those blueberry picking outfits! The kids look awesome. I totally want to go pick blueberries and shop antiques with my kids. In pictures. Reality is so different!!
“RB gets so much better with age”–thank you! HOPE!
I can hear it all and have to agree! A soundtrack to live by, reflections upon living, and an adventure to share. Thank you for giving yours!
The way you described that restaurant scene – painfully and hilariously accurate. In general I feel like the meal isn’t done until I lose one of them or someone eats something off the floor. Other great scene enders include the milk spill. We will win at dawn!
Bah. I just love you. #thatisall
When all you are used to is parenting little girls, a toddler boy will come and blow everything you knew out of the water. Been there, done that 😛 My “toddler boy” is now 10. I promise, it does get better. And less destructive 🙂
Just too much to process right now…things are crazy at the college I work at with end of the year, and I can barely find the time to feed, bathe and hang out with my child after I get home from a full day with a 30 minute commute. I guess on one hand I wish I had the time to orchestrate these elaborate daydreams every day, but on the other hand I wonder if I wouldn’t end up more exhausted than I already am!
A for effort though.
love your writing kelle…reading your stories always puts a smile on my face!
The picture of Dash and Nella drinking Capri Suns…pure sweet innocent childhood. I love that photo!
This was such a beautiful post. I can’t help but smiling. : )
I love this post. Reminded me of why I never took my kids out to a real restaurant! Just got back from vacation. My husband noticed me taking lots of unique pics. He asked, “Are you taking photos like that blog mom?” I said Yes! And they will be in a photo book soon! Haha!
Ha…love it!
Kelle, this post right here? This is classic, amazing, lovely Enjoying the Small Things. I love everything about it and your writing! You are a gifted story teller and I continue to adore your blog from up here in Ontario (live) / Michigan (work) after many years of reading. You crack me up and make me think and bring a smile to my face every time. Cheers to the crescendo and all the craziness that accompanies it!
Aw, thank you for these sweet words. Cheers to crescendos!
I love Nessun Dorma too and while I knew it meant “none shall sleep” I had forgotten the vincero bit meant “I will win”. I loved reading this because my darling 15 month old baby girl has been teething like a maniac for months now (she cut 8 teeth nearly all at once!) so we’ve got Nessun Dorma up the wazoo at my house! But yes, vincero! I will win (sort of, eventually I guess?) she can’t stay in my bed forever, right? (Right??). Long time lover of your blog Kelle – thanks xx
Music uplifts our souls. Learning to play an intrument at young age is very good for their brain development.