Today the inevitable dreaded event finally happened: I locked my keys in the car. My only set of keys.
I have been very diligent about not ever locking the doors until I know exactly where my keys are, but today was a very special day. Not the sort of special that lights you up inside and makes everything in the world seem happy and full of song and dance. Oh no! Not THAT kind of special. It was the sort of "special" that is trialsome, exhausting, and you wonder where on earth your mind has gone. I just knew, from the moment I stepped foot out my front door this morning that it would be that kind of special. And it was. The first thing I did was lock myself out of my car with my arms loaded full of three different bags (backpack, diaper bag, and activity bag), a stroller, and two kids. I was already an hour late for dance class, at no fault of mine. Child minding said they couldn't take the kids until 10:30 today because they were already over-booked with babies galore. So, there I was with those smug keys mocking me from inside of the car, and all I could do was run with the kids to my dance class.
Our dance critic, Jane, saw me sneak in the back door and watched me as I put on my ballet shoes. There was almost a glimmer of evil in her eye as she noticed me. Oh, the stories I could tell you about this lady! She is the meanest critic you'll ever meet and she takes so much satisfaction in pointing out everyone's flaws. In fact, that's her ONLY role in our company. Her job is to show up and point out what everyone is doing wrong. She used to dance in operettas in NYC once upon a time, but now she's just an old, mean critic that has always seemed to have it out for me from the moment I first started rehearsing with the company. Furthermore, she knew Elena had created this new dance piece we were rehearsing with me in mind. She knows I've been waiting for a piece like this one, too. It's not a folk piece like most of our other dances. It's this beautiful piece that is a lyrical/modern ballet piece with lovely ethereal dresses and flowing white scarves performed to the instrumentals of The Beatles' "Yesterday."
As Jane eyed me in the back of the room, she asked Elena, "Now, just who do you plan to have dance this piece Elena?" She instantly flashed me a look that seemed to say, "Ha! Take that!" And, to Jane's delight, Elena started to go off on me to the rest of the company. I am still not sure if Elena was aware that I had entered the room, but she went on and on about how she choreographed this piece specifically for me but if I'm not even going to make an effort to show up and learn it then she will choose somebody else. She ended with a big "harumph" and hands on hips. That is one tough Russian ballet instructor that I normally wouldn't mess with. And, I could see her point. But I was already having a bad day and I was so fed up with Jane thinking she could walk all over me. Jane is the same lady that turned her nose up at my sweet little toddler and backed away with her hands blocking her from the forces of the baby cuteness and said, "I don't like babies. Keep it away from me." She really is like a witch. I'm not exaggerating about her meanness. Anyhow, enough was enough!
I stood up and sharply defended myself:
"Elena, I'm here! And out of all of you, I am the only one who had to get kids ready and out the door, and I'm the only one who had to juggle childminding to work out a way for my kids to get in just so I could dance today to rehearse this piece, and I'm the only one who locked my only set of keys in the car, and then ran - yes, ran! - all the way here with two kids and three bags. But I still made it! I am here! And I will learn this dance. Right now."
And I entered the dance floor with my head held high and took position. Now that doesn't sound so tough, but I felt tough. The girls all clapped for me and Elena just looked me up and down, and with a frown said, "Okay. You are here. Let's dance."
And I did. I put on a damn good show, did better than anyone else in the room that had already been there for over an hour, and afterward even Jane "The Dance Critic" came to talk to me about my background in dance and was surprised that I haven't danced that style since college over a decade ago. I felt like I had finally gained her respect to some degree. Yeah. Take that! I felt so hardcore. Yeah, in my little ballet shoes and ponytail, I felt like a rockstar. I left class feeling a little more empowered. I called AAA and had a tow truck come out to break into my car for me, I bought the kids lunch at the health club's cafe while we waited, I made friends with everyone in the room - the guy behind the counter, the old couple waiting for their next tennis match to start, the towel boy, the lady watching television. I know it's really an ordinary thing for most people, but I broke out of my shell today and felt like I could take on the world. I was assertive, confident, and self-assured, rather than submissive, shy, and reluctant. I can tell that dance is going to be really great for me in my life right now. :) My lack of self-confidence always held me back from taking dance to the next level my entire life, yet, by breaking out of my comfort zone to dance, I find that I'm fostering that very thing that I lacked. Who knew?!
