Riot and Frolic

Life with a Newborn - with a Crappy Graph

Sometimes I forget how life is after I bring a new baby home from the hospital.  You'd thnk I remember by now, what with 5 of these experiences in my pocket, but NO.

Since momnesia is real, I decided to make myself a graph as a visual reminder of what to expect when I'm no longer expecting, and just expected. Like, to do stuff. 

 

 

On a usual day, I would wake up in the morning (1), make a cup of coffee (2), make lunches for the school kids (3), wash some dishes (4), start a load of laundry (5), and make a list of three very necessary things to get done that day (6).  

Nothing too earth shattering.  Just the morning routine.  

Inactivity

But now, somewhere in the middle of getting a sinkful of soapy water, this new baby needs to eat and he's not at that cool baby stage (several months down the road, Kathryn) where he can hold a bottle, so I drop everything and sit on the couch for 20 minutes.  

While this could be a restful respite from the rat race of being a normal human, there's only so much social media one wants to consume, I discovered.  And only so many words in ANY book one can read.  And only so many shows that will capture one's attention on Netflix.  Even the glow of meditating wears off after the hundredth "break" in two weeks.

(For those who need help with my math: let's say babies eat 8 times a day minimum every day, that's 56 times per week, which is at least 18 hours a week, which is longer than the average season of a sitcom, more time than it would take to read the entire Hunger Games series, and about twice as long as even the most die-hard Tweeter is on social media each week.)

Don't get me wrong: I dig spending some time bonding with my child.  I make eye contact and talk to him and all that goobery mom/baby stuff.  

But I also want to eat.  

I want to eat a sandwich with two hands.  Not a possibility, you say, bebe?  One handed sandwich eating is required?  Well, now you are my napkin, baby.

Less Than Inactivity

Did you notice the blue line actually goes BELOW zero?  

How can one get less than nothing done? you might ask yourself.  

When a normal person goes to sleep, they get through all those groovy sleep cycles and their body and brain repairs itself in that miraculous way that sleep does.  

When a newborn parent goes to sleep, your sleep cycle is at the mercy of a tiny totalitarian who might like to sleep in your armpit, or sleep when vertical and being walked AND ONLY WALKED, or who might want to tell you all their baby secrets at 2:11am, or who might want to tell the neighbors all your secrets at 2:11am. These small dictators might wake up once or 12 times at night and it cannot be predicted.  CANNOT!

Those times in your youth when you complained about that [rejuvenating] 5 hour night of sleep you got?  You'd settle for four uninterrupted hours.  And the lucky synapses that would fire faster because of it.

Activity

During those amazing minutes when I feel a bit energetic and the baby is sleeping somewhere peacefully (rascal!), I make a quick but thorough plan of attack:

• run upstairs (OMG QUIETLY) and grab my laundry and that book I was reading and the stamps to mail thank you cards
• run downstairs (STILL QUIETLY, YOU ELEPHANT!) and throw the laundry in
• back to the main floor to wash that tepid sinkful of dishes (QUICKLY, I HEAR STIRRING IN THE BASSINET)
• throw together a smoothie bowl (IT'S TOO LATE, HE'S AWAKE; I'M GONNA RUN THE BLENDER)
• balance your bowl on the iPad on your book with a spoon in your mouth and a water bottle (DRINK ALL THE FLUIDS) and run to grab baby before he loses his shiz.

It is less than the average adult might accomplish, and yet, I WANT AN AWARD.  Or some cake.  

I'd definitely settle for cake.

Anarchy

The Children's Museum is a great place to bring your kids.  There's interactive exhibits, lots of room to burn energy, cool ways to learn without it feeling "learny", and, of course, other kids.

In other words, anarchy.

There's no telling a toddler to wait their turn to drive the fire engine. 

There's no way for a polite 8 year old boy to tell a stubborn almost-2-year-old with a death stare that she needs to release and relent that fire engine steering wheel once she gets it. #henniebadger

There's no reason a Type A nine-year-old starts off quietly organizing the play kitchen and very quickly proceeds to run a monopoly on the food trade in the neighborhood.  She puts her sister in charge of managing the farmers market and when another kid says something about The Family Business, you realize your kids started their own mafia.  

There's a very fun interaction when a 3-year-old boy convinces a girl and her mom wearing niqabs to "Get on the dinosaur train!"

On the plus side, I've seen few instances of bullying in this anarchic world of young people.  Literally one that seemed on purpose and then a whole bunch of other instances where some small person had no equilibrium and knocked into another small person.  

Generally speaking, the older kids watch out for the toddlers in a completely glorious and indifferent way (casually brushing a kid's hand away from getting stuck somewhere, moving them to the side of the stairs as they cruise by) and the toddlers watch and learn covertly from the older kids.  

As the caretakers uselessly follow their charges around, we nod and smile politely and possibly strike up a conversation, but it's not really our time or place.  But maybe it should be.  It's a pretty simple world these kids like: never stop moving, talk to everyone, stand your ground, have fun, be loud, and learn stuff.

Boom.

Don't Know What I'm Doing: Hot Jam

A couple of people have compared me to Jessica Day from "The New Girl" and I usually blow it off as she's a great Every Girl who epitomizes how many of us feel from day to day.  

But tonight, I'm excitedly sitting in my dining room listening to the lids on my cans pop.

AKA, I'm having a JAM-boree.

Hot JAM, it's warm in here.

I'm canning.

Jam.

I've done some simple canning before.  I think only ever tomatoes.  And those are exciting enough!

But now the bar has been raised. 

There has been pectin and sugar and "setting" to worry about.  

But a mere two hours later (the kitchen is even CLEAN; I know, shut up), 4 out of 9 half-pint jars of strawberry jam agree that I didn't totally blow it.

The day started out innocently enough, when the crew and I picked roughly 20 pounds of berries.  And if you thought the 7 of us could destroy a "party size" bag of M&Ms, you should have seen us plow through this sign of summer.

[Note: we are in the middle of Strawberry Week where we are reading awesome books such as The Little Mouse, The Red Ripe Strawberry, and the Big Hungry Bear aaaaand creepy ones like The Grey Lady and the Strawberry Snatcher, eating lots of strawberries, and Wimbledon.]

Anyhow, I felt I had to start putting my excellent jar collection (thanks, C&J!) to use and I figured I could sneak 5 pounds of strawberries away from the fam if I threw on some Pinky & The Brain cartoons after they were all tuckered out from swimming (thanks, B&K!).  

I read three different sets of directions about 50 times each: the recipe that came with the Sure-Jell pectin, the Ball canning website strawberry jam recipe, and The Pioneer Woman's pictorial version.

I followed directions.

I rejoiced when I saw my jam had set in the pot while I was taking the jars out of the water.  Because if I've learned anything from British television, it's that a runny jam is not going to cut it.

And...

PING

Now 6 out 9 jars agree that I'm not a moron.

Doing Weird Things

I've been trying new things lately.  They often seem weird and I often feel stupid attempting them.  Most of the time, I don't have anything but my wits and good ol' Google helping me out.

I've Instant-Potted four things in one day so I didn't have to turn on the oven or stove.

The garden has gotten new plants (some which have been previously ventured and failed miserably) because dammit, I'm going to grow some shit.

I've drilled holes into plaster and lath.

Most recently, I've tried doing more Instagram stories.  [insert laughing crying emoji here]

I'm pretty sure I've done a lot of other cool stuff, but you get the picture.

The fun part is that what seemed weird at first now seems pretty easy, but I had to keep trying them.  

JUST LIKE DANCING.

I don't know if you remember learning how to do a Rumba box (International dancers, stay with me), but it was pretty weird for most of you. The majority of you did that unnecessary tap step after your forward and back steps (forward, tap, side together, back, tap, side together), you couldn't stay on beat unless someone was counting loudly in your ear or holding you on time a bit, you often skipped and/or added a step out of nowhere, and a good quarter of you liked to rotate to the right instead of left..

Once you get past the basic step for any dance, there are patterns that exist to expand your repertoire.  I personally teach syllabus patterns.  And I'm not your wits and ye olde Google either.  I've had pretty good training and A LOT of experience, plus I love a good rulebook. I'm also not some kook with a YouTube channel making up Quickstep (does anyone remember that lady?!). 

I go for the super-simple NDCA syllabus patterns (with acceptable variations), not even the crazy-fun, long, and complicated Freds, Arthur Murray, or even DVIDA patterns (most of which I know for kicks).  I've heard comments that I teach weird patterns and combinations, but if you're in the learning process, aren't all unknown and unused patterns and combos weird?  

Sweetheart [Parallel Breaks/Cuddle in Rumba] seems weird to people who haven't "cheated" their timing before or to someone who learned Turkish Towel first.  Hell, the 6-count Underarm Turn [Circle Turn] is awful to those who have stayed in Closed Position all their lives or who think Rumba will always consist of "step side together".  And turning to the right (regardless of your Rumba rotation preference in the beginning)? Get out of here.  Awkward awkward awkward!

On the other hand, many of our students (who are mostly pro-am-ers who compete in syllabus levels) are happy to know that they have routines that fit the requirements (EVEN IF YOUR INVIGILATOR FRIEND AND HUSBAND PULL A MEAN AND HILARIOUS TRICK ON YOU AT ONE OF THE BIGGEST COMPETITIONS IN THE NATION) but don't look the same as everyone else's.  

The next time you think you're doing something weird, realize that you're just doing something new to you and that if you keep doing it, you might like it.  

Two years ago: So You Want to Be a Pro - The Myths

Five years ago: Dandelion Crowns

Six years ago: Facts About Motherhood

Between Bronze and Open

Hey guys.

I've been avoiding you.  

There's something I've wanted to tell you for awhile, and I'm afraid it'll hurt your feelings, so I just stayed away.  

But as much as the truth might hurt, the lies are hurting both of us more.  

The fact is... There are two full levels of syllabus moves between Bronze and Open.  

[relieved sigh]

There it is.  

The cold hard truth: Silver and Gold exist, have a syllabus (with variations! Bronze does as well!), and are sandwiched between Bronze and Open.  One might even say the levels are progressive from Bronze to Silver to Gold to Open.

I feel better already.

Oh, you want some elaboration?

CAN DO.

You can throw yourself into Open heats at almost any time in your dance career. (Open refers to "choreographed", meaning you can do "whatever you want", as opposed to Closed [Syllabus] events in which you have to stick to the appropriate level syllabus or lower levels' syllabi.)

Now, I am a BIG FAN of dancing "up": using your Bronze figures in Silver and above , Silver figures in Gold and above, and Gold in Open (duh).  BUT, that's assuming you are using at least Silver technique on your Bronze patterns, Gold technique on your Silver patterns, ETCETERA. 

And if you're doing Bronze in Open?  I expect Open Level Technique on those Bronze-y figures.  Not just Good Bronze.  

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE...

Why are you doing Bronze in Open?  Or even a basic Silver figure in Open?  

The correct answer would be: I'm showing my foundational movements with the highest technique possible because that is beautiful expression of the dance.

Yes, yes, very good answer, young Paduwan.

What I've seen lately, though, does not seem to demonstrate that very good answer. 

It seems that some Open dancers have taken mostly Bronze patterns (strictly syllabus, not even with a "creative, yet still syllabus" variation involved) and thrown in a measure or two of flash-and-trash Open thing (Hello, Step-Points in Foxtrot and Dip or Splits Trick in Rumba!) and called it a day.  And I'm guessing it's because they never learned any of those excellent Silver and Gold patterns.

Again, if you are KILLING. IT. on those basic steps, I'm okay-ish with this routine.  

But you're not.  

You're doing your Bronze stuff fine and making my eyes water when you do your "Open".  

I know those flashy moves and just the designator "Open" makes you feel like you've accomplished a great feat, but what happens when you join the "'Why Didn't I Learn This When' Club" a couple years down the road?  And more importantly, what happens when I'm the one to break it to you that your dancing needs fixin'?  I'M BEING SELFISH HERE, PEOPLE.

Those ignored Silver and Gold syllabi?  They are SO FUN.  And necessary, even.  (Even the Bronze syllabus can afford you some sweet variations, as long as you know how to combine skills and interpret the rules to add some flair here and there.)  While you're working on those neat-o patterns in Silver and Gold, you can refine all the techniques that will make your Open exponentially easier AND MORE PLEASANT TO WATCH. (Again, with my selfish streak.)

To summarize, I want your Open to look and be Open, and I want you to take advantage of all the progressive and cumulative skills the FOUR LEVELS OF DANCING (Bronze, Silver, Gold, and Open) afford you.  Because I want to watch you dance well (and not the alternative to that).

Similar and nicer: Stop Trying to Grow Up So Fast

*this does NOT apply to Open Bronze and Open Silver, for those in the NDCA circuit: those are meant for Bronze leveled dancers who want to do an Open routine, but be judged as a Bronze dancer, likewise for Silver.