Ever the optimist

Biscuit is often pretty hard on himself. He doesn't like to do things badly.

If he's practicing piano and he misses a note or gets something wrong, he really struggles with letting it go.

And sadly, I know exactly where he got that from!

So since it's my fault, I figured I need to work really hard to help fix it. And I've enlisted help from others, too. Like his piano teacher.

Tonight at Biscuit's lesson, I asked the teacher a question out loud, knowing that Biscuit would hear me. And his teacher said exactly what I hoped he would say.

"If he misses a note or loses his place, should he just keep going or should he go back to the beginning or should he go back a few notes and make his way back through?" I asked the teacher.

"Well, first of all, EVERYBODY makes mistakes and misses notes and loses their place," the teacher said. "So it's basically about where you feel comfortable. If you can keep going, do it. If you need to start over, do it. But just remember that there is absolutely nothing wrong with messing up. It happens to everybody."

I couldn't have said it better myself. Actually, I HAVE said that myself.

But even though he can be pretty hard on himself, Biscuit is also quite the optimist. He seems to be able to find a silver lining in most situations.

A perfect (but scary) example ...

Biscuit and I went to my parents' house this past weekend. Jeff had to stay home for work, so it was just the two of us. We had a good time, but by the time we got home yesterday evening, we just wanted to eat a hot dinner and go to bed.

I was making cheese and black bean quesadillas when I heard something really odd in the living room.

First, there was an awful thud. Then I heard Jeff gasp. Jeff is definitely not a gasper. And then I heard a wail that made my blood curdle.

Biscuit had tripped over his own feet and fell face-first into the coffee table. He slammed his cheek on the table, and he was in pain!

It was so incredibly awful to hear him cry in pain. And he would run out of breath and be perfectly silent for a few seconds before he cried out again.

I was not at all calm. I was running back and forth between the living room and the griddle I was using in the kitchen. I couldn't decide which was more important - checking on Biscuit or keeping the kitchen from catching on fire!

Finally, Jeff carried Biscuit into the kitchen, and we immediately put ice on his face. Then Jeff got a flashlight and looked in his mouth and in his ears. Everything looked okay.

He didn't hit high enough to cause a concussion, but we watched him for symptoms anyway. We figured it couldn't hurt.

And of course there was the "should we take him to get checked out" conversation that I hate so much. Either way, I'm not going to sleep for worrying.

So I made Jeff go up a couple of times during the night to wake up Biscuit and make sure he was okay ... just for my own satisfaction. And of course I couldn't go up and do it myself because I was too scared of what I might find!

Anyway, after we checked out Biscuit's face and ears and mouth and everything, he started to calm down a little bit.

And through his tears, he said, "Guys, do you know the good thing about getting hurt?"

"There's a good thing about getting hurt?" I asked.

"Yes," Biscuit said. "The good thing about getting hurt is that it won't hurt like this tomorrow."

Wow! His face was red, starting to turn purple. His eyes were red and starting to get puffy. And Biscuit throws out a positive affirmation.

He is an old, old soul.