Rage Is Cray

If I could put into words the rage I feel when my daughter refuses to go to dance, this would write itself. I tried to do an interpretive dance to the music I made while feeling rageful. The dance kinda looked like this:

Angry Dance Moves (clearly stolen from me)

I wish I could describe it better. It's making me do a Sad Dance that "Flight Of the Conchords" got my Angry Dance so right. So sad that, in fact, I'm back doing the Angry Dance. Damn you, "Flight of the Conchords," for being so accurate!  Also, anyone else wish they'd ever watched that show? It looks hilarious.

At any rate, I'm not sure why I get such a visceral reaction when Kiddo #1 pitches a fit about dance, but here are 4 reasons I keep signing her up for dance class despite the attitude.

Why I Know Kiddo #1 Really Does Love Dance
1) She sings about loving dance all day and night.
2) She dances around the house to any and all music.
3) She loves showing me her latest ballet moves.
4) She loves Miss Brittney (the dance coach). LOVES her.
5) This isn't an 'always' reaction, this is a 'sometimes' reaction.

Ha. I just re-watched that video. Ha.

Ok. So anyway, I get rageful. But it's that crazy, quiet rage that I try and swallow and swallow hoping no one else can feel my blood pressure going up, up, up while my 4-year old sits solidly on the chair saying, "I'm not going to dance" in an equally calm voice.

Oh, I know we're both teetering on the edge of a full on hurricane-meets-tsunami-in-a-whirlpool-in-the-ocean-that-goes-all-the-way-to-the-centre-of-the-earth sorta way. And, I know her father, my saint of a husband, knows this clash of titans is on the verge of becoming real, yet I am completely powerless to let this go.

It begs me to question WHY? Why does this send me over the edge? Why does her quiet refusal make me want to pick up our house and launch it down the block when I'm normally a pretty level-headed let-it-go type lady?

Well, I think part of it is that I know she loves dance. Loves it.  It makes no sense to me that she wouldn't want to do something she loves, unless she wanted to deliberately cause me to have a complete stroke at my tender, young age.  Since the act of deliberately causing me rage is something so outside her character that it's laughable, I can count that reason off the list of possible ones.

I think part of it is that her refusal to go is some sort of crazy reflection of my abilities as a parent.

Yikes. Writing that made me realize how ridiculous that really is. But don't we all sit and think (at least sometimes) "What will so-and-so think of me?" when your kids do something silly? I mean, sure, I judge everyone all the time, but that doesn't mean everyone judges me, right? Ha. I'm just kidding.

I really don't judge everyone. Not since I had kids anyway. I find the fastest way for someone to be less critical of others is to give that judger a kid. Seriously. No parent sits and says "Ugh! My kids never, ever do something silly in front of others, so I can fully judge you as a suck-tacular parent.  You. Over there. You SUCK!"

So, then, WHY do I get so rageful?

I was mulling this idea over with my ever-level-headed sister, Sister, when she, ever calmly, said, "Well, then, what is Kiddo #1 really trying to tell you?"
Me: Huh?
Sister: What is your daughter really trying to tell you when she says, "I don't want to go to dance?"
Me: Uh. ... Ummmm.
Sister: If she loves to dance, like you said, and she loves to go to  dance, like you said, then her saying she doesn't want to dance indicates something else, right? She's only four. Sometimes she won't be able to say what she means simply because she's four and doesn't have the vocabulary. Or the emotional maturity.
Me: I like cats.
Sister: Right. So, is it possible that she's saying this because she's actually too tired to dance?
Me: My cat's breath smells like farts.
Sister: Maybe you should have her take a nap after school and see if that helps.
Me: I think that's cray.
Sister: Cray? What? What is that?
Me: That's "Kanye" for 'crazy' and I'm trying to use it to sound cool.
Sister: Ya. That's cray. Try the nap and see what happens.
Me: Fo Sho.
Sister: I'm glad I spent my 20 minute break talking to you. It was really great. Really.

I'm pretty sure she did the Angry Dance after that phone call, but you get the idea.

So, today after school I said, "Kiddo #1, you're gonna take a wee, short nap before dance."  And she, in turn, said, "Ok."

And, after her DaVinci nap (which is to say, I had her sleep 45 minutes exactly so that she had 20 minutes of quality sleep sandwiched between 15 minutes of falling asleep and 10 minutes of that time before you fall into the deep sleep that you never want to wake up from because it's too delicious) she got up, ate dinner, and happily pliéd off to dance class! To dance class, I said! Happily!

She was herself in the class, too. She had a great lesson, danced very well and was smiley and a good listener the entire time. In short, her DaVinci nap made her back into my child again. Whodathunkit? And, she went to bed easily tonight, too. Seriously, DaVinci Nap Junior, where have you been all my life?

And now, I'm off to bed before I turn cray. Apparently lack of sleep and going crazy runs in our family. Darn Husband's genes. ha. I just pictured him doing that Angry Dance. Ha.




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