Kinda Bragging

Everyone's definition of "crazy" is a little bit different, which is why I figured I would follow up watching the crazies jump in the river with a little bit of my own brand of crazy. I took Alexis to see Burn the Floor. Again.

I actually didn't initially think it was all that wild and crazy of an act, but when I realized that she was one of only two kids in the entire audience, I started to wonder. When we took our seats and a woman behind us audibly complained about Alexis' presence to her companion, I got a little self-conscious. I mean, I know the kid is capable of sitting through a show, but maybe it was asking a bit much to expect her to sit through two hours of ballroom dancing. It didn't exactly go smoothly the first time.

Alexis is too short to see the stage if anyone sits directly in front of her, so I hauled her butt up onto my lap just as the curtain lifted. She ooh'd. She aah'd. She whispered that she recognized some of the dancers. She declared some of the boys "cute" and some of the girls "beautiful."

And she started to squirm.

A lot.

I fussed and fussed at her, until she finally effectively explained that she wasn't being a wiggly douchenugget, she was actually dancing along with the show. While it's highly annoying to have a tail bone repeatedly smashed into your leg, it was sort of cute once I understood the reasons for the ants in her pants. And painful. Emphasis on PAINFUL.

When the intermission finally rolled around, offering me a moment of relief from the pain, I turned to give the woman who had rudely commented a little glare. I'm mature like that. She met my eyes and immediately turned to Alexis. "You're being so good, honey. Do you like the dancing?" she said.

MY KID WAS BEING GOOD! Or at least she had fooled a stranger into thinking so! RAWK!

The woman and Alexis (she is not too shy to speak when spoken to!) chatted for a moment, and somewhere in there the woman commented on the behavior of the two twenty-somethings seated next to us. I already knew what she was going to say, given that Alexis had repeatedly tattled on them, and that I had already bitten a hole in my tongue (literally) trying to keep from telling them to shut their faces.

They had not stopped talking for so much as five seconds throughout the first half of the show. My four-year old knows it's rude to talk while people are performing, but those airheads couldn't figure it out. SO ANNOYING.

For the record, they thought Mark Ballas was SOOOOO HOT. Like, OMG! Look how hot he is! He's so hot! Oooooh! Hot! Look at him! HOT!

I'm pretty sure they had never seen a boy without a shirt in their lives. Actually, if one of you airheads is reading this, email me. I have a photo of dozens of shirtless Ken dolls that look just like Mark Ballas shirtless. It'll make your day and maybe next time you go to a show, you won't feel the need to add a horny soundtrack to the whole thing.

Ahem.

So, long story short, my kid behaved at a show. Mark Ballas is hot. I didn't physically harm anyone.

I call that a New Years win.

Not Exactly a Performance Review

Through a confuzzlement of dates and a conundrum of memory lapses, last year I managed to break a tradition of posting an annual "Performance Review" for Alexis. If I had, it would have been a virtual repeat of the ones from 2008 and 2007, which is to say the kid continued to suck at staying in her bed and still had a mullet that would have made 1992's version of Billy Ray Cyrus' hair very proud.

Interesting how not setting a 2010 goal of staying in her bed somehow led to the kid staying in her bed. And, OH YES, I did just write that. Out loud. I'm so confident in the staying in bed thing that I'm willing to put it in the books. MY KID STAYS IN HER BED AT NIGHT!

(Please beat me with a thousand wet noodles if those words come back to haunt me.)

(We'll not be discussing the mullet. THANK YE GODS OF HAIR that she has big curls that disguise it so well. Because it's still there. BAD.)

The biggest goal I would have set, if I hadn't slacked, is that I would have established that Alexis really needed to work on that Shy Thing. For her, it was always a confidence issue, which is borderline ridiculous given that the kid is pretty damn cool. She, however, doesn't always feel that way. When around a large group of people, she has always had a tendency to try to climb back in the womb and hide out. And if that large group of people looked at her or talked to her or in any way paid attention to her, she started willing herself to vanish into thin air as she crumbled into a heap of tears and misery.

Her birthday party last January was an excellent example of The Shy at work. She had fun, but she definitely spent a good portion of the party hiding and upset and crying because people had the audacity to look at her as they sang Happy Birthday to her. It was all fine, definitely fine, but it was painful to watch. Why couldn't I just go to the store and buy the kid some confidence?

And now I write about all of that in the past tense because it's gone. Well, not gone, but The Shy has certainly been pushed to the edge of her landscape. If I look far off towards the horizon, I can still see it, but it's over there. Not here. Not in her way.

In recent months, she-who-didn't-talk-to-strangers has learned to command a room. She has walked up to strangers and started a conversation. She has gotten silly with cousins she previously wouldn't even look at. She has strolled into a new classroom as if she owned the place. She knows who she is and she likes who she is.

It's amazing and wonderful and more than I could have ever possibly imagined for her at this time last year.

As I was thinking about the growth and how remarkable it has been , I realized there was a turning point. While we didn't exactly manage to buy the kid some confidence, we were fortunate to be in the right place at the right time for someone to be able to gift it to her.

Lily.

The day Alexis met Lily was the starting point.

Never question the power of a little pixie dust.

One Way to Kick Off The New Year

A New Year means a new start at my personal photography challenge. What better way to kick it off than with a whole bunch of crazy people who have decided to start their year by jumping into a freezing river?

There is no better way.

I met up with the crazies (I say that with love, and they know it) just in time to watch them take part in the 2011 Pittsburgh Polar Bear Plunge. We fought through treacherous mud, pouring rain, weirdly warm temperatures, and thick fog.

Then THEY fought through stripping down to the essentials and jumping into a arctic river. I fought through clicking a little button and staying out of the way. I'M SO TOUGH.

She's tougher. I'm OK with that.

While it was fifty degrees outside when the Polar Bear Plunge went down, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess the water was more like ZOMGBRRRRRSOOOOCOLD. I think body parts fell off.

And yet, one after another, the crazies leaped into the icy abyss.

That first glance of them when they emerged from the river was like a lesson in foul language, pain, and SERIOUSLY? THEY'RE DOING THIS ON PURPOSE?

ON PURPOSE.

They even seemed to . . . I don't know . . . LIKE IT.

Weird.

They are all pretty much rock stars.

Hat's off to Yinz, but that's it. Just my hat. I'll be keeping my warm, dry clothes on.