The hunt for the perfect guitar

Two Christmases ago, I decided when Jory turned eight, he would get a guitar for Christmas and take guitar lessons.  Who knew this would be so challenging?

I went to Toys R Us’ website to look at the teaching guitars I had seen in the store and on their website.  The price was right, I could pick it up while the kids were at AWANA and all would be right with the world.  Unfortunately, the reviews for the teaching guitars weren’t good.  People were commenting about the horrible sound and how the guitars weren’t meant for teaching but just for kids to play with.  We already had a guitar for Jory to play with at home, we didn’t need a second pricier one.

Then I turned to Target, Big Lots, K-Mart, Sears, to see what was out there.  The choices, the choices.  Acoustic, electric, five string, etc… are you kidding me?  I just want a guitar for Jory to learn to play on.

I moved on from those sites to the music instrument sites.  A thousand dollars for a guitar?  A guitar?  For a child?  Do you smoke crack for a living?  Nylon string?  Full size?  Half size?  Two hundred dollars?  Three hundred dollars?  I was just trying to get my son to learn an instrument not buy him a kidney.  Who spends three hundred on a soon-to-be-eight-year-old?

My brain was hurting.  There were too many choices, too many options.  I decided to call my friend, who played the guitar amongst other instruments.  Marcus was happy to help me out, directed me to a music store in Santa Monica.  Then he proceeded to give me some advice on how much I should spend on the guitar.  He suggested Jory’s guitar should cost around five hundred to seven hundred dollars, in case I needed to sell it or wanted to upgrade it.  He wanted to make sure I could get my money back from the guitar.

Never had I been more grateful for a conversation taking place over the phone.  I love Marcus, but he was smoking crack.  I get where he was coming from, looking out for me, for the future, for me to own something that would keep it’s value.  But he missed the part where I said this gift was for an eight-year-old.  An eight-year-old.  Jory and I don’t know each other seven hundred dollars well.  We don’t.  One day, we might, but right now we don’t. 

If I had asked Marcus this at lunch, I would have fallen on the floor laughing.  But I was able to contain my laughter and thank him for his suggestion and advice.  It was time to take a break from all things guitar.  Maybe if I found a nice guitar teacher, he or she could help me find the right guitar at the right price.

A new year

I took a several month break from this blog.  It wasn’t intentional, but maybe it was needed so now I’m back.  Let’s start the month of March off right!  Welcome back to the same old place that you laughed about.

When I came back to work after Christmas break, I had a smile on my face thinking of all God has blessed me with.  A good job with great co-workers, the terrific children, a loving mother, great friends.  I am truly blessed.

It would take hours and days at a time

For me to sit down and write down all things He’s done

But let me say this, it’s nothing I’ve done

It’s the grace He gives freely to everyone

God’s been good to me

Oh, my God has been good

Hmm, not quite

“Look, Mommy, I’m a boy,” Layla exclaimed, as she pushed her bangs up away from her forehead.

So having no bangs makes you a boy?  Hmm, interesting to know.  But sad but true when she said she was a boy, I looked at her and thought no, you almost have fivehead.  I love her to death.  

She’s the most beautiful baby ever, but she will need bangs until the day God calls her home.  Her bangs will rest evenly on her forehead as she lays in her casket.  I’ll have to remember to tell that to her husband and kids.

Kumbaya

During devotional time, we were learning/singing Kumbaya.  We were singing nicely, but I thought I heard something.   

I kept imagining I was hearing something.  What was I hearing? 

I was hearing Jory singing runs.  Yes!  My son was singing runs during Kumbaya.  Who would have thought it?  I guess this is what happens to a child raised on American Idol and The Voice.

Spelling Sentences

“Give me a sentence for cabin,” I said, as we were nearing his school.

“I got in the cabin and it took me to school,” he replied.

WHAT?!  “Jory, what does cabin mean?”

"Taxi cab," he responded casually.

Ah, that doesn't make sense, but it makes sense for his sentence.  "No, baby, it's a small house usually in the woods."

"Oh, okay."

Interesting the definitions we come up with in our minds.