I took this picture of Heather practicing yesterday for fun, and found myself thinking about practice. I have been blessed with the ability to do things well the first time around, things like school, a new sport or teaching a group of kids at church. This can, of course, be a dangerous thing especially since I didn't have lessons or extra curricular classes when I was young to teach the importance of practice. I have, however, had very meaningful lessons in practice, both good and bad. I'll share the best of both.
In college, I had to take a Biology class. Groan. I was not a science girl, but since I had to take one, I chose Genetic Biology. This seemed fitting because of my Child Development major, and I thought the knowledge might come in handy. It was still science, and because of the material not being repetitive (I really never mastered meiosis and mitosis in high school), I had to work a little harder for a good grade. In order to really get to know the material, I took my notes home each week and recopied them on to note cards. Then I used the notecards to study from. As each quiz and test were taken, I would be shocked at the A I would see on the paper. I was an A student, but never in science or math. When the semester came to a close, I purged my binder and book bag as usual, but I couldn't part with those note cards. That A meant more to me than all the other As I always received. I had finally had a lesson in working hard and earning the accomplishment through practice. I've never forgotten that lesson.
Another lesson I haven't forgotten is the one in which I didn't practice and fell flat on my face. I was to play my flute for a church meeting as I had done other times. I reviewed my music enough to not be sight reading, and I thought myself prepared. In the moments before I played, I was surprised at how calm I felt. I thought I had arrived at some point where nerves wouldn't bother me anymore. I was so calm that I missed some notes and ended up really messing up the flow of the number. I learned that with practice, things are more automatic, kind of like what they say about muscle memory. I also learned that nerves are something that keep you focused. I've pretty much welcomed the nerves ever since. I have also welcomed the blessings of preparing as my prayers are answered to have the music I play sound pleasing to the congregation. When we work hard, we are blessed.
We are in a place right now where our daughters need to learn about practice. Jenna wants to quit piano. I told her that we wouldn't quit until she had had several weeks of practice in a row. She had been discouraged at piano lessons, but had not connected that it was because she wasn't practicing. All of the sudden she is practicing (wanting to show me it won't change her mind), and the music is coming easier. She is having more fun and I haven't heard her talk about quitting for a while. She may still want to quit, but both girls are reaping the rewards of practicing. I hope these memories stay with them and that they learn that practice time is something to be welcomed, not dreaded. I'm really thankful for the lessons I've had, not that it will motivate my children at all. But at least I won't wonder if it's really necessary to encourage practice; I know it is, and that's what I'll practice while I preach it.
Spring soccer isn't the warmest so far. Jenna was back playing today although not completely 100% yet. It began to sprinkle toward the end of the game, and Heather poked a couple of large holes in a trash sack and stayed dry while we huddled. The game was lost 0-1 in the 4th quarter, but Jenna did so well at goalie and defense that it didn't feel like a loss at all. 
I took this picture of Heather practicing yesterday for fun, and found myself thinking about practice. I have been blessed with the ability to do things well the first time around, things like school, a new sport or teaching a group of kids at church. This can, of course, be a dangerous thing especially since I didn't have lessons or extra curricular classes when I was young to teach the importance of practice. I have, however, had very meaningful lessons in practice, both good and bad. I'll share the best of both.
If you have ever wondered where the name, "Peterson Pickle Jar," was born, here is the explanation. Petersons love pickles. I learned this when our daughter was given her first pickle by her Peterson grandparents during a camping trip. She was around two years old, and she loved the pickle. Petersons traditionally serve pickles with holiday dinners and with every day lunch-time sandwiches. Grandma Peterson pickled her own pickles, onions and cucumbers. We always have a jar in the fridge and bust out the pickles now and then. I like dill pickles just fine, but Petersons can make a whole snack or side dish out of them. Jenna proved to be a Peterson in her own right, and both girls have gone through their "favorite" kinds over the years (always Clausen's, but varied between spears, baby dills, etc.). Recently, the favorite has been the sandwich slices (why? I don't know), and my girls get a bowl and a fork and fish out anywhere from 3 to 5 pickles at a time as a snack. Now that is pure pickle love for these Petersons. I've had to keep several jars in the fridge as the two gals can down a jar in one or two sittings. I'm not sure it's a healthy snack, but they certainly enjoy themselves while crunching down their pickles. By the way, if you ever want a really yummy, huge dill pickle, Disneyland has the best oversized pickles of the ones we've tried. Take it from the Peterson girls. They are pickle experts.
Lots of good creating happening this week when I should probably have been doing dishes. Oh well. When the mood struck, I went with it. I made this 4-family member Family Home Evening rotation chart which I've had sketched out for a year or two. Most of the premade ones allow for larger families, and I don't really care for the ones we've tried. I'm excited to try this one. We put our names in different fonts to make it fun. Jenna wanted bubble letters, but the only puffy ones we found made her name look like Jenno. So we went with the puffy cow letters even though the E isn't perfect. We did Heather's in "Herculaneum" marking her Greek/Roman mythology vibe. I laminated everything at the copy store with the heavy duty lamination sheets. The names are attached with squared of sticky back Velcro.
While washing some apples this morning and setting them to dry in the light of my kitchen window, I was inspired to photograph them. My brilliant sister would have made these look scrumptious. My photos turned out a little dark even though I think I had the settings correct. Although they were nice pictures, I nearly gave up on them until I enhanced them with a little bit of extra light. What a difference. 
I pinned this last night from a favorite blog, Dreamland, and it got a ton of hits within minutes of the pin. It must be a message that speaks to our souls.
In the midst of a crazy rehearsal schedule for our church show, we were able to hop in the car and zip over to see our dear friend, Daisy, perform in a community theater production called Law and Order. It involved the Big Bad Wolf on trial, many fairytale witnesses, and Daisy starring as Rumpelstiltskin, the prosecutor. Very fun show and Daisy did a great job!
