Dance Lessons and Stress

Last night was a very crazy, stressful night. I spent much of the day feeling sorry for myself and my aching back. But by around 3-4pm, my back miraculously healed itself, and I felt fine. Well enough, actually, to think about running to make up for my lack of movement during the earlier part of the day.

I never said I was smart.

Actually, I think I did say that. I am smart. I just inherited my mother's stubbornness, especially when it comes to arguing and working out.

But that's another post in and of itself. Just know that I spent much of the late afternoon/evening planning to run, and today I am regretting it slightly, and made sure to pack the Icy Hot in my gym bag.

So my afternoon consisted of taking SB to her dance lesson, stopping by a satellite location of the company I work for to pick up some stuff for a benefits fair we're doing today, rushing home to feed SB before my piano lesson got there, then trying to run before dropping SB into the bathtub and throwing her into her bed. Add in there various household chores like laundry, emptying and loading the dishwasher and cleaning the bathroom.

When I get stressed out- I mean really stressed out, my head itches. I know that sounds really weird but I swear it's true.

The last time I was that stressed was my second semester in grad school. I love the idea of taking classes and learning and furthering my education and all that good stuff, but I'm a very impatient person. I wanted that degree like, yesterday. So I went to school full-time while working full-time, plus overtime.

I didn't feel like I was making enough money at work (does anyone, really?) so when they had trouble filling an open spot in the back office of the physical therapy practice where I worked, I volunteered to work overtime to cover the duties of that spot. And make more money for myself.

So my typical weekday at this point would entail waking up at 4:30am to get to the gym, arrive at work at 7am, head to my "other job" at 3pm, then head to class around 5pm. My classes were back to back, and would end at 10pm, which is when I would head home and collapse into bed.

Weekends were mostly spent catching up on homework (this was grad school, so there was a ton of research article reading involved) and trying to maintain some sort of social life, since at the time I was in my early 20's.

So the second semester of this, my classes were a little tougher than the first semester (although no class I ever took was more difficult or gratifying than statistics, which I took the first semester. And got an A in. Which the DEAN commended me on, because the teacher apparently did not like to dispense of A's very much. But enough bragging....) and I was starting to stress a little.

Around the same time, I noticed that my head itched. A lot. I'd be sitting in my Motor Development class and find myself going at my own head like a dog with fleas. Because of all the scratching, I noticed some flakes.

I freaked out. I have very dark hair, and have never had a problem with dandruff. If anyone needs to not have dandruff, it's a person with dark hair. Or a person who has to wear black all the time. I was not happy about this. I bought dandruff shampoo and washed with a passion, but no matter what I did, my head would not stop itching.

I didn't really think the itching was stress related until it miraculously disappeared shortly after the semester ended. Since then, it's come and gone, and I've noticed it only rears its annoying little head during times when I'm stressed out for an extended period of time.

So yesterday, I'm running around, trying to fit everything in, including my run, while scratching my head to the point that SB asks me why I am scratching like Koko.

Thank goodness I had SB's pre-ballet/pre-tap class to take my mind off things.

There are four girls in her class. All four are dangerously adorable, in their Little pink leotards with pink tights and little underwear sticking out of the bottom. Two are very quiet, very well-behaved little girls. My daughter is not one of these. She is one of the rambunctious, curious, active two. Those are all euphemisms, by the way, for not focused, not obedient, and not attentive.

But at least she has personality! At first glance, Jordan would appear to be every parent's dream child. She's obedient, quiet, and actually attempts to do what the teacher is doing. SB and the other girls just kind of, at best, get the general idea of what's going on. For example, if the teacher, Ms. Carole, is trying to get them to go from first position to second position by moving their one foot out to the side, Jordan will actually try to do that. Meanwhile, Anna would be sitting on the ground looking at her toes, Gabriella would just be standing there with her arms out, and SB would be up at the mirror making faces at herself.

It's hard not to laugh. Admittedly, though, I don't try very hard.

The first couple of lessons, I was very envious at Jordan's impeccable behavior. I came very close to asking her father how he raised such an obedient and dedicated child. But now, after a few lessons, Jordan's hardly uttered a single sentence, except for "my favorite color is blue." I would take SB's randomness any day over the quietness that is Jordan.

Gabriella is another quiet one who tries to emulate Ms. Carole's movements, but kind of doesn't want to let herself go all the way with it. So she'll kind of commit herself partway to whatever's going on. And she complains a lot. I thought it was funny that one day she didn't want to do chasses because her stomach hurt, but as soon as Ms. Carole pulled out the horses for the girls to gallop with, she was first in line to receive one. But she's usually pretty quiet and paying attention to what's going on.

Then there are the other two. SB, sadly, is one of them. SB and Anna aren't really good at focusing or listening or following directions. Or staying on their spots. Or staying away from the mirror. Or refraining from talking to each other and holding hands during class. And....well, you get the message.

Ms. Carole has 4 rubber dots that are numbered, that she places on the floor. Each girl gets a spot, and is supposed to stay on it, unless otherwise directed. SB got into the habit of picking up her spot and moving it around. After being reprimanded for doing that two, three, twenty times, she finally settled for picking up her spot and smacking it repeatedly on the ground. While the other girls were trying to do releves and so on. At least she wasn't moving it around.

SB tends to lose interest in the lessons and find herself attracted to her reflection in the mirror. She'll run up to the mirror and stick her tongue out and make all sorts of goofy faces at herself. I think at one point she actually licked the mirror. Repeatedly. That's my girl!

I have video footage of the class all lined up, standing facing the mirror, doing something graceful with their arms, and SB is in the middle, with her back turned to the mirror. She is bent over, sticking her butt out and shaking her booty.

In all honesty, SB has gotten a lot better. She's received all sorts of compliments from Ms. Carole, and now, when I peek in, she's not only standing on her spot, but she's attempting to do what Ms. Carole is doing- and actually succeeding! Yet she still calls out randomly about holes in her tights (which was actually a piece of lint) and how Daddy is at work but Mommy likes to eat cake.

Some might call it ADD, I call it personality. And I think Ms. Carole appreciates it. SB is much better than Anna. Anna is a basket case. She comes in all cute and dolled up, but once she gets into class, she totally spaces out. At first, SB was her partner in crime and they'd just go off on their own tangents into outer space together. But now that SB is the model student that she is, Anna spends most of her time sitting on the floor and sulking. Sometimes, she reaches over and tries to pet SB. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Yesterday, Anna decided she didn't like what they were doing so she just sat there in the middle of the floor and stared at her knees. Ms. Carole moved her over to the side of the room (probably for her own safety- this was during the tap portion, and those girls are dangerous), and she didn't like that one bit. I didn't see her reaction, but Ms. Carole actually came out into the waiting room and warned Anna's mom that she wasn't happy with her.

Anyway, the class is a riot. It was a great stress relief, if only for an hour. And the best part about yesterday's class was at the end when, as we were walking out, SB turned around and yelled out "Thank you, Ms. Carole" and gave her a big wave and a smile. I always make her thank the teacher, but this was the first time she did it on her own, and the first time it was so genuine.