Back to school

There are many stressful events taking place in my life: “The Voice Kids” begins airing the Blind Auditions this Saturday, and will continue to air every Saturday and Sunday until the finale on Aug. 30; still with TVK, Battles and Sing-offs will be recorded next week, which means coaching sessions begin this week, each of us taking care of 18 kids on our teams, with members ranging from 7 to 13 years old. We’re dealing with varying attention spans, possibly overeager parents, and that thing called puberty (we all have prepubescent kids on our teams).

However, there is a much more pressing stress that has lately occupied my brain: back to school. Meaning, my munchkin Nicole will be entering the third grade this year. And, as with every school year, from around mid-May to the first week of June, the only thing that’s on my mind is the hustle and bustle at my local bookstore, trying to get all her requirements ready.

The list of supplies is long, two full pages of paper. A grooming kit, pencils, color pencils and crayons, notebooks, erasers. Thankfully, everything was relatively easy to find, except for one thing.

A small metal pencil sharpener.

From firsthand experience, I know for a fact that these little things are virtually indestructible. I’ve had my share of them throughout my schooling life, and this is my tool of choice for sharpening eyebrow, eyeliner and lip pencils. However, they also tend to disappear.

Inevitable farewell

I honestly don’t know how many I’ve had, or how many I’ve also lost. It doesn’t matter how I’d label or mark them, I would invariably have to bid it farewell at some point during the year. The one metal sharpener I have now has been kept hidden in my makeup kit to make sure I don’t lose it.

When I tweeted about the hunt for this metal sharpener, I was met with store recommendations (try this branch, head to that outlet, etc.). And finally, two friends just bought a couple for me, for which I’m very thankful. The hunt for the small metal sharpener is officially over.

Over the next few late nights, I’ll mostly likely be found in my kitchen bleary-eyed while wrapping her notebooks in white paper and plastic covers, and using whatever calligraphic skills I have left to label everything. It’s the kind of thing that every mom or dad (whoever is normally left doing this task) knows only too well, one we all willingly do.

We were able to make the month of May a “milestone month” for Nicole, as this is her birth month (she turned 9 last May 16, with mermaid swimming, gold temporary tattoos and a sleepover with a few friends).

I told her that it was time for her yearly checkup with our family pediatrician. Then she said, “I want to get my ears pierced.”

OK, this might not be a milestone for many of you who got your piercings at birth, like I did. However, my husband Rob and I opted to hold out until she expressed that she was ready. I was happy that we waited as long as we did; now she’s able to care for the piercings herself, for the most part.

Brave biker

She was very brave, and didn’t shed even one tear.

Another milestone: she can now ride a bike.

Rob learned when he was a little kid, while I only learned when I was 12. My brother Gerard took to it like a fish to water when he was around 7, on a neighbor’s bike that was a little too tall for him (his yaya had to carry him off the bike when he was done … he got his own soon after though). She learned first by just gliding up and down our street without the bike’s pedals attached (a bit of advice from the bike-shop guys, which was the best advice we could receive). Next thing we knew, the pedals were attached and off she went. She rides a lot with Rob now, and it’s a great bonding activity for the two of them.

Finally, at the end of last month, like her mother, uncle and cousin before her, she had her very first piano recital.

We made sure we rehearsed her (she doesn’t particularly like practicing, so we negotiated iPad time … for every minute she practices, that’s how long she gets to use her iPad) and prepped her as well as we could. Her teacher would make her rehearse while playing other music on her iPad, loudly, to get her used to distractions. On the big day, her cousin Antonio (a veteran of two recitals, and, as expected, an amazing musician) gave her a pep talk, saying that she’d be OK.

And she was. I held my breath the whole time she was playing. She recovered beautifully when a booboo was made, and had a huge smile when it was over. When she returned to her seat, she told us how nervous she was. Antonio played two pieces as well, and to perfection.

The whole family celebrated with a wonderful dinner, all of us beaming that another generation is appreciating music in the way we did as kids. We don’t require them to get into the “family business” though, just so you know.