"Music's just not my thing"

So yesterday I got a call from the music teacher, actually dad did (he obviously didn’t know mom handles things in our house). Donn called me and asked me to take care of it , he said the message from the teacher sounded “serious”, so serious that I was supposed to tell the school secretary to transfer me to the classroom and interrupt class. EEKK!

I called right away and was transferred to the class, I spoke to the teacher and then to Owen. I told Owen that “he needed to apologize to the teacher and then listen to the instructions given and follow them. He need to make good choices for the rest of the day. If he didn’t he would lose his DS and all other games for the night; as long as I didn’t hear back from the teacher I would know he followed the rules”. He said “okay, love you mom.”

I did hear back from the teacher, I got an email, it went like this:
Mrs. Longwell,

Thank you for your help today. This was something that I wanted to try with Owen to see if it made a difference. The first day or two that I said that we would be calling home it did make a difference and he changed his behavior. However, the last two or three class meetings did not seem to make a difference.

I apologize for disturbing you and Mr. Longwell during the day, although I do believe that it was beneficial for Owen and the rest of the class. After our phone call Owen completely changed his behaviors and was acting like a different student. He came up to me and apologized and said that he would do better the rest of class. And he was much better.

Thank you again for your assistance.

I was SO happy to hear the our conversation was successful! He does listen to me! Owen knows that mom & teachers are a team… this is good….

At dinner I told Owen I was proud of him for making the right decision after we spoke. Dad said to him, "But (long pause) if we get another call from your music teacher, you will lose you games for a week, no exceptions."

Owens response, “Music’s just not my thing”.

Donn and I both had to stifle our laughter at the response. When I asked him to explain why, he couldn’t. It would be so much easier for me if I understood what aspects made it hard for him. Is it the noise? Is it the standing still on the risers? I know I can’t fix everything for him, but I feel like it’s my job to help him through things (feel like it, it IS my job!)