This I love...

One of the best things about spending a good part of my life teaching people of various talent and willingness to play the piano, is that eventually I got to teach my own grand-daughter.
Somehow, it's much easier than when I taught my four children.

McKenzie listens to me.
She has conversations about why she likes this piece and why that one is hard.
She hums along to the songs she likes.
She is polite.
She loves me.
We don't yell at each other.

I am always second-guessing myself on my parenting. I wish I had done "this" better, or not done "that" at all. Piano lessons were a kind of microcosm of our relationships with each other. And while I am sure my kids would have their own versions of why taking piano lessons from Mom was horrible, it was partly those experiences that got us to where we are today. Now we can (mostly) laugh about it.

And while they don't all play the piano today, they all found instruments to love and music is a big part of their lives.

So there must have been something good.