First Love - Part 3

Our children's piano teacher is of Eastern European descent. She speaks with a pretty thick Russian accent in a stern, no-nonsense manner of speaking. She takes the piano very seriously, and expects her students to do the same. If they don't practice sufficiently throughout the week, she knows it. And the disappointment in her tone of voice is crystal-clear. So they practice.

Most children - and some adults - are intimidated by her. Afraid, even.

(Those kids don't realize she has a soft spot and that she actually shows tremendous affection - a motherly love - for her students. But I won't tell...)

Now picture my daughter. She had colic as an infant, and we swear it never really went away. Now, at age 10, she's got a quick temper and likes to always be right. She hates to compromise - she wants it either her way or no way. Once begun, she won't back down from an argument. And she likes to do things perfectly on the first try. When she doesn't (yes, she's human, so of course she doesn't always get it right on the first try), that's when it hits the fan. Frustrated and angry, she "expresses herself" to whomever is nearby. {Oh, but I love this child! She makes life challenging and interesting every day.}

Now put the two of them together. My daughter is not afraid of Zena (she's well aware of the soft spot and uses it to her advantage). All too frequently, I hear Zena's matter-of-fact guidance in the piano room, followed by my daughter arguing and even yelling back at her. I was mortified the first few times it happened but - sigh - it's all too commonplace now. Zena softens, my daughter yells some more, I sometimes step in with an appropriate threat-of-removal-of-privileges, and then the situation is de-fused enough for life to go on.

{I realize you're wondering what this has to do with First Love - but you need to have some background before the punch line...}

So, the other day, in the middle of a lesson and before the yelling had begun, my daughter stops playing and turns to Zena, all giddy: "Guess what? I have a boyfriend!"

Zena: "You do? Tell me about him."

Daughter: (gives details)

Zena: "Well, he sounds like a nice boy! But you know, when you like a boy, you can't talk to him the way you talk to me or your mother. You have to be nice."

I about fell off my seat! Yes, our Zena knows my daughter well.

On the other hand, I don't think I'll ever have to worry about my daughter standing up for herself with a boy. And I think I like it that way.

Because if she can hold her own against Zena, and keep our precious Russian tied around her little finger, then surely she can handle a fourth-grade boy.