Shattered Pride

A wall of noise reached out and smacked us in the faces as I opened the door. It's always like that at the Dance Studio on Thursdays. Four very full classes overlap, so the place vibrates with madness and chaos.

As Alexis and I weaved a path through the crowd, we spotted a little opening by a wall. We settled in and I helped her quickly yank off her t-shirt and change into her tiny black dance shoes. As soon as she was ready for class, she glanced over at some other girls from her group who were running and jumping through the waiting room, joyously doing that thing that little girls do.

"Momma, can I go play with them?" Alexis asked. Normally I would have told her no because I'm not a fan of shenanigans in such a crowded space. I sensed that it really mattered to her this time, though, and class was set to begin in just a minute or two. That didn't leave much time for her to do anything that I would have to fuss at her for, so I nodded as I stuffed her tennis shoes into her dance bag.

Alexis skipped over to the two girls as they stood in the center of the room bouncing and giggling.

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I registered Alexis for her very first gymnastics class when she was just a few days short of two years old. It was a Mommy and Me class selected specifically because she was so terribly shy that if a stranger so much as glanced at her, she would fall apart.

Alexis spent every minute of every class glued to me. That was the point, though. I wanted to push the limits of her comfort zone just a little bit. As time went on, I re-enrolled her again and again, eventually graduating to a "kids only" class that was a combination of gymnastics and dance. Alexis really wanted to dance, but she needed the familiarity of the gymnastics class.

Gradual change.

Little-by-little.

Eventually she started going into a dance class without major tears or drama. She always loved the class once she decided to participate, it was just that initial separation anxiety that did her in.

When we changed to a new dance studio, *POOF* the shyness was completely gone.

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As Alexis skipped over to the girls in the middle of the crowded room, I thought back to the days when she wouldn't make eye contact with another kid during dance class. In just under four years, she has grown leaps and bounds. She much more confident now, far more outgoing, and can take control of a room without batting an eyelash. She has learned to enjoy being the center of attention, even when the attention comes from people she doesn't know.

But she knew those girls.

She's been in class with them for weeks. They're a bit older than her, but really, that's generally how Alexis likes it. She gravitates towards kids who are into the same things she is, and she is most definitely into things that are more appropriate for a slightly older kid.

Alexis confidently pushed her way into the conversation between the two giggling girls.

But then, something happened.

I don't know what. The room was so loud that I couldn't hear the words, but I watched as Alexis' expression shifted from confident and happy to angry and confused. Then her entire face fell as she morphed to hurt. Tears began to fall as she turned and ran back to me.

"What happened?" I asked as she threw herself into my lap.

"They said I can't play with them because I don't have a dad here," she sobbed.

The answer was almost more confusing than anything I could have expected, but I managed to gather that the two men in the waiting room belonged to the two giggling girls who had trounced away as Alexis left the conversation in tears. It didn't make sense why having your dad take you to dance class was suddenly a status thing, but since when do 6-year olds make sense?

I didn't know what to do. I had no idea what to say. They don't tell you how to handle this sort of stuff in any of those "What to Expect When You're Expecting" books.

I ended up having to drag Alexis into her class, still sobbing and upset. I don't know if it was the right thing to do. I just knew that heeding her pleas to go home wouldn't solve anything.

It's moments like that which make me wonder if Alexis wasn't originally right to be leery of everyone. It's certainly safer to be shy.

 

I Officially Have a Content Editor

Someone explained the internet to Alexis.

I mean, I know I explained it to her, but I did it within the context of "This is what I want you to know about the internet because there will be no googling 'Justin Bieber nude,' thank you very much." Just so we're all on the same page, Alexis now knows that Disney.com/games only works if your homework is done, monsterhigh.com has a super secret password that you only get if you manage to not annoy your mom for a solid eight hours, and nick.com doesn't work on Dell computers. It's the weirdest thing. Ahem.

If anyone informs her otherwise, there will be hell to pay. DO YOU HEAR ME? HELL. TO. PAY.

Anyway, Alexis seemingly understands the consumer side of the internet, but she also seemingly understands WAY more about the other side of things than I explained. She has completely figured out that I have the ability to put a photograph on the internet for other people to see.

This bit of knowledge has given her power.

For the past week, Alexis has come up with some sort of shenanigans every single day, asked me to take a photo, and then demanded that I post it to the internet. It has led to moments like this:

Which, see Alexis? I PUT IT ON THE INTERNET. STOP ASKING.

There was also this:

Don't ask. I didn't understand it at the time and I still don't understand it now. I'm just a servant who lives to please my dear Alexis. She says jump, I say, "How high?"

To be honest, the fact that she understands how the whole creating-content-for-the-internet thing works is a a teensy bit fun. I'm looking forward to seeing what she'll come up with up until she gets bored of the whole thing and moves on to torturing cats or making fart noises with her armpits or whatever it is that 5-year olds are supposed to do with their free time.

There's a catch, though.

Alexis knows this URL. She knows that the photos I post to the internet are visible if you type in this URL. She knows that she can tell her friends to go to this URL and that they can see photographs of her here.

So, uh, if you're one of the parents of my kid's classmates, hi! I exploit my kid here! But it's totally with her permission!

Christmas Crazy Keeps Getting Crazier

The UPS man has worn a path through our front yard. That can only mean one thing--Christmas Crazy is coming along quite nicely. I have a guest bedroom quickly filling with toys. There are dolls and Legos, sewing kits and basketballs, gadgets and games . . . all of the things that will bring joy to kids of all ages. The toys will be delivered next Friday (December 16th) to Womansplace, just in time for Christmas.

We're currently at $2300, which is going to turn into a lot of toys. A LOT of toys.

But I want more.

I want there to be so many toys that Womansplace has too many toys. Not that there is ever such a thing, but I want there to be so many that they aren't carefully counting and dividing so that each kid gets exactly one thing. I want them to have room to breath. I want them to not have to worry this holiday season.

I want magic and joy to fill the heart of every kid Womansplace serves.

If you guys can drive that total up to $3500 by next Wednesday (December 14th), I will reward you. Sort of. It depends on how you look at it, really. Let's just say I am in possession of a few photographs of me from the days before I embraced my ruler-straight hair. They are group shots so you won't be able to fully enjoy the spectacle that is pink plastic glasses thicker than Coke bottles, but still. The photos are . . . something.

But I'm not posting them unless Christmas Crazy reaches $3500. So there.

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One of you asked a question which led to another question which sprouted an idea.

"Does Womansplace accept used stuff animals as donations?"

The short answer is no. Womansplace cannot accept used stuff animals because of concerns about cleanliness and safety.

However.

That question led to another question. "What do kids get when they check into the emergency shelter?"

The answer was that they get a toothbrush and a few other necessities. Consider that for a moment. The kids are caught in the middle of a crisis situation. They have fled everything that is familiar. They have grabbed a few essentials and ran away from home, with hopes of a new start in a safer place.

And they get a toothbrush.

We're going to help with that.

As an extension of Christmas Crazy, I've made arrangements with Womansplace to begin providing "Welcome Kits" for kids as they enter the shelter. They will be made up of a tote bag, a pair of socks/slippers, a small stuffed animal, a coloring book, and some crayons. Nothing extravagant, just a few small things that will hopefully make them feel a little bit welcome as they start along a new path.

Most of the details are already taken care of for the first few months, but if you are a knitter and have the time to make a few pair of socks or slippers, please let me know. My knitting skills are such that it would be punishment to get socks made by me. Maybe one or two or five of you can do better.

I'll let y'all know if I need anything else to make this tiny bit of magic happen. It's a simple thing that will go a long way in helping make a few kids feel just a little bit more comfortable.

Everyone deserves to be made to feel comfortable, whether they like it or not. ;-)