Monday, June 7, 2010

Belly dancing and child handling...

I had a very, very busy weekend, but a happy one :) My solo choreography is really coming along, and I received the items I ordered to make a costume. Professional belly dance costumes can cost upwards of $200-$500, so obviously, I wasn't going that route. Not at this time, at least. I have a very pretty chiffon skirt from one of my troupe costumes in a wine color. What I ended up doing is ordering a black hip scarf and top to use with that, and it cost me less than $50 :) I was very pleased with myself. When we use those skirts we layer matching color hip scarves and choli tops, so with the black it looks like a totally different costume.

I also liked having the freedom to order any top that I wanted. Our choli tops are really nice, but many belly dancing tops are a bit, ahem, scanty :) I wanted a bit more coverage. This one is a pretty halter that extends down to my belly button and has hanging coins there. I feel very comfortable in it.

So, I half feel extremely excited, and half feel like I may vomit. The typical reaction of a lifelong introvert.

We took a bunch of pictures on Sunday in our instructor's new studio and it was tons of fun. I just love those ladies. Middle Eastern dance has enriched my life in more ways than I could count.

So, the other fun weekend event was that my sister Shauna'h was in town visiting. She came to my house for a quick visit, and then we were headed out to do some additional family visiting. This entails about a 20 minute car ride. I brought Hank along with us, planning to include him for a grandparent visit and then drop him back at home with Mike so that I could join my parents and Shauna'h for a late dinner.

That was the plan. And this is the "reality of life with a 4 year old" version:

As we're about to hop on the highway, I hear a little voice from the back seat.

"Mommy, my stomach hurts *really bad*!"

*sighs* Hank has many stomach issues these days. Why, you ask? Well, because the child hates to poo. There I go, flinging the word 'poo' around my blog again. Sorry to the people who are not yet parents. Someday, you'll use the word 'poo' with all kinds of recklessness too. For whatever reason, many 3 and 4 year olds, especially boys, hate to poo with the fire of a thousand suns. I have no idea why. I'm certain that if given a choice by our Creator between having to poo and not having to poo, we'd all choose not to have to. But this is the way we are made, and we pretty much have no choice in the matter. But since being potty trained, Hank has filed for official conscientious objector status with regard to poo, and holds out for as long as humanly possible. Hence, the stomach aches.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry. We'll use the potty as soon as we get to nana's, ok?"

I glance in the rearview mirror and see Hank squirming unhappily in his car seat.

Approximately 5 minutes later (that's right, exactly halfway into our journey) more unhappiness radiates from the backseat.

"Mommy! My stomach hurts REALLY, REALLY BAD. Oh Mommy! Oh, it hurts!"

Oh sigh. Shauna'h notes a fast food restaurant off the upcoming exit, so I signal and exit the highway. We pull in and I hustle Hank into the ladies room.

Thus commences 10 minutes of real tears LOUD sobbing.

"Mommy! Oh, it hurts, it HURTS! Mommy, HELP ME!"

I was starting to get a bit concerned. I was pretty sure that he just had a very bad case of debilitating gas pains, but one never knows. I made lots of encouraging "push sweetheart, push!" exclamations, but there was no poo making an appearance, so I brought him out into the eating area to lay down on a booth. I was hoping that certain positions would, you know, *alleviate* the problem. I got him some apple juice, but nothing would soothe him. He was utterly inconsolable.

Shauna'h and I got him strapped back into the car seat, and I sped to the local grocery store to see if I could find a children's version of Gas-X. I found some children's Tums and hoped that would work. Shauna'h was out in the car with Hank, and I come back to find that Hank was sobbing "HELP ME, HELP ME! I WANT MY MOMMY!" so loud that she feared a shopper may conclude that a child napping was in progress and dial 911.

I had Hank chew one of the Tums (which he did only under protest) and made the decision to take him back home. Thus, an hour after we embarked, we arrived in the opposite location from our ultimate destination. Hank had specifically asked to go home, saying that he wanted to go to bed, but after chewing the Tums he fell asleep in his car seat. I hoped that meant the Tums was starting to work. Based on the smell emanating from the back seat, I had a good feeling.

We got him in the house, and Hank voluntarily processed right up to lay on his bed. Poor baby. Mike gave him a bath and made him some toast, and reported in later that Hank had pooed and was feeling much better. All was right in Hank's world again.

Poo notwithstanding, they are so very precious :)

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