Why Cleanse? Many people have different reasons for wanting to clean things out every now and then. Not only have I decided to clean out my closets, I have also made a choice to start the Master Cleanse. The Master Cleanse is a 10 day body flush that consists of drinking a 32 ounce salt water "flush" in the morning, this is designed to clear away toxins and debris within the intestines. In addition to the "flush" the bulk of the "food" that I will be taking in consists of this little concoction:
8 0z. filtered water
2 tbs. maple syrup
2 tbs. organic lemon juice (fresh squeezed)
pinch or so of cayenne pepper
The cleanse plan advises around 12 cups of this lemon concoction a day.
In the evening, just before bed, I will be drinking a nice hot cup of smooth move organic tea.
Wow! It sounds like a lot of liquids, good thing I will be home alot.
At the end of 10 days (Actual cleanse can be done up to 40 days) The creator of this particular diet Stanley Burroughs suggest that users will feel lighter, fresh, alert and energetic. This doesn't sound so bad eh?
Day 1: It is 10:30 a.m. I am currently reading "Be Here Now" by Ram Dass. It has really inspired me in so many ways. If you think about it, many historical spirtual people suggest fasting, or cleansing as a way to connect with the self. Just a few of these figures you may recognize, Jesus Christ, Martin Luther King, Ghandi, and just about any major historical figure in Yoga. In addition to my cleanse, I am slowing things down, reading more and journaling.
My salt water "flush" is down, in addition to my first glass of lemonade. So far so good. The salt water drink wasn't horrible but not the best thing in the world either. The lemon/syrup drink is pretty tasty and filling. We will see how the rest of the day goes!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
The nose knows
Monkeys are known to emulate one another in the wild. One monkey sees another using a stick to dig termites out of a hole and "ta da" humans are no longer classified as the only tool using mammal on the planet.
People, much like monkeys mimic each other for many reasons. Be it a new fad that is so catching you just can't help but copy someones style. Maybe the girl at work files her nails into a square fashion that is just so cute that you have to try it. Or the guy at the gas station gets his window's squeaky clean and clear by flinging the water out of the squeegee between each swipe. Whatever it is we pick up from each other, we do it for a reason, either because we think that it seems like a good idea, or we want to see what it feels like to do something a different way.
Case in point. Yesterday, I was shopping for fruit, ahh yes glorious summer peaches, cantaloupes, plums and bright red juicy strawberries. All ripe and fresh for the picking, or er...bagging. I noticed that the store was selling several types of peaches. White peaches, large peaches and just plain old peaches. I went first for the large peaches because I suppose the American way of bigger is better is still in my psyche aside from the fact that I am a reformed type yogini searching for something simple and maybe not so big. It could be worse though, at least it's not a Cheetos grab bag. I reached for a beautiful orange red jumbo peach, feeling the fuzzy skin on my fingers and heaviness in my hand. My next instinct is to experience this peach with my other sense organs so I brought the peach to my nose and very slowly inhaled the luscious aroma. Much like fine wine, there is a technique to sniffing produce. Depending on the variety, you can either sniff slowly (you want to do this with peaches since the fuzz can quickly enter your nasal passages) or you can sniff a little quicker, something I like to do with melons. As I was enjoying my own little private affair with this particular peach, I became aware that someone was watching me. Pulling the peach away from my face, I looked over to notice an older man in about his 70's watching my technique. "Does that work?" he asked. Suddenly I realized that my little peach incident was under scrutiny, so me being the natural educator that I am decided to give this man a little lesson on fruit sniffing. I informed him that since I was a little girl I have always smelled my produce and my nose has never failed me, giving me the gift much like a bloodhound to sniff out the freshest, juiciest and boldest tasting fruit ever. "Hmmm" he replied with a very thoughtful glance. "Maybe I'll try that." As I walked away after bagging my peaches, I looked back to see this very curious old man inhaling the intoxicating scent of summers gift, the peach. I also noticed a smile on his face, which brought one to mine in exchange.
Learning from others is a gift. Try looking around and see if there isn't something you can pick up from another human being.
People, much like monkeys mimic each other for many reasons. Be it a new fad that is so catching you just can't help but copy someones style. Maybe the girl at work files her nails into a square fashion that is just so cute that you have to try it. Or the guy at the gas station gets his window's squeaky clean and clear by flinging the water out of the squeegee between each swipe. Whatever it is we pick up from each other, we do it for a reason, either because we think that it seems like a good idea, or we want to see what it feels like to do something a different way.
Case in point. Yesterday, I was shopping for fruit, ahh yes glorious summer peaches, cantaloupes, plums and bright red juicy strawberries. All ripe and fresh for the picking, or er...bagging. I noticed that the store was selling several types of peaches. White peaches, large peaches and just plain old peaches. I went first for the large peaches because I suppose the American way of bigger is better is still in my psyche aside from the fact that I am a reformed type yogini searching for something simple and maybe not so big. It could be worse though, at least it's not a Cheetos grab bag. I reached for a beautiful orange red jumbo peach, feeling the fuzzy skin on my fingers and heaviness in my hand. My next instinct is to experience this peach with my other sense organs so I brought the peach to my nose and very slowly inhaled the luscious aroma. Much like fine wine, there is a technique to sniffing produce. Depending on the variety, you can either sniff slowly (you want to do this with peaches since the fuzz can quickly enter your nasal passages) or you can sniff a little quicker, something I like to do with melons. As I was enjoying my own little private affair with this particular peach, I became aware that someone was watching me. Pulling the peach away from my face, I looked over to notice an older man in about his 70's watching my technique. "Does that work?" he asked. Suddenly I realized that my little peach incident was under scrutiny, so me being the natural educator that I am decided to give this man a little lesson on fruit sniffing. I informed him that since I was a little girl I have always smelled my produce and my nose has never failed me, giving me the gift much like a bloodhound to sniff out the freshest, juiciest and boldest tasting fruit ever. "Hmmm" he replied with a very thoughtful glance. "Maybe I'll try that." As I walked away after bagging my peaches, I looked back to see this very curious old man inhaling the intoxicating scent of summers gift, the peach. I also noticed a smile on his face, which brought one to mine in exchange.
Learning from others is a gift. Try looking around and see if there isn't something you can pick up from another human being.
Monday, December 17, 2007
A Very Special Guest
Throughout the holiday's my family and I generally have several visitors, be it family, friends or sometimes in a rare instance perfect strangers. Recently, my Husband and I invited a man from Korea into our home for dinner. This man has only been to the United States on two occasions, this visit to over see a piece of equipment sent to my husband's work being his second. When my husband first suggested the idea of this man, Mr. Song, visiting our home for dinner, I immediately felt nervous. "Well, sure, that would be great." I said, feeling a little bit unsure of everything from what to cook, to how to act so that I don't end up giving off the wrong vibes to our foreign guest.
I love having company over, especially during the holidays. There is nothing I enjoy more than preparing my home for guests, cooking and entertaining. I do admit I am a bit more Martha Stewart than I am Holly Golightly.
I'm not going to lie, one of my main concerns was making a positive impression upon this man.Don't get me wrong, my children are wonderful but they are on occasion a bit loud, hyper and have been known to strip off at the strangest times and run around the house nude. So maybe I did have a deep desire for my children to be somewhat like the Van Traps, maybe without all the singing (however that would be a nice addition to the evening.) And as for my husband and I....Mr. and Mrs. Brady might be a nice couple to mimic.
After much discussion, research on Korean culture, food and social etiquette it came to me....simply be yourself, allow your family to be themselves. After all, this man, is probably wanting to experience a real American family.
Now, what would we cook? Stir fry and Costco egg rolls? No that is trying to hard. Chili? Maybe that would be too spicy. Shepard's Pie? After all my roots are Irish...no too bland. Ahhh I know, Spaghetti. It's easy, tasty, and who doesn't like spaghetti?
When Mr. Song arrived at our home that evening, I had everything ready. The cake was baked, the spaghetti on the stove, fresh garlic bread in the oven and a bottle of wine breathing.
Mr. Song greeted me with a handshake and a little bow, "how polite," I thought to myself. After putting coats away, and preparing the table, we began having dinner. This is when it happened, my darling little 2 year old began making faces, pulling her noodles out one by one, spreading sauce all over her face and yes, singing very loudly, not quite the Song of Music but at least she was trying. "Macy, sweetie, please be quiet and eat." I said in my nicest Mrs. Brady sort of way. She continued on, and now her brother was even joining in on the noise. Oh no, I thought to myself. He is going to think we're heathens! "Kids, that's enough, quiet down now." I repeated, giving my husband a kind of "say something to them" look. Just then, kind Mr. Song smiled saying, "Let them talk, be loud, if they didn't do that, we would think they were sick." Then it hit me, right up side the head. He was so right. Children are children, they talk, they sing, they have fun, with every little part of life including spaghetti. They don't try to impress people, they don't hold heirs. They simply be, and you can accept them how they are or....well, they might just run around naked.
My husband and I both smiled, and I felt an immediate sense of calm embrace me. Our visitor was so ultimately comfortable, our children were comfortable, so why weren't we?
I think we try so hard to impress people, to give them the experience we think they desire maybe forgetting for a moment that we are not them, and we do not know what they are looking for in their experience.
Before Mr. Song left, he played with my children, lifting them up to the ceiling, giving them horsey rides and placing Korean coins and dollars into their hands telling them both that someday they will be great important people in this world. He took pictures of us all together and some of the kids. And, he thanked us for a "genuine American family experience." "You are so kind to have me into your home to meet your family, thank you so much." He said, with a very kind smile.
After he left, my husband and I both agreed that our lives were better because of this guest, this perfect stranger who came into our home and our lives, for just a couple of hours to show us what it means to just simply be ourselves.
Thank you Mr. Song
I love having company over, especially during the holidays. There is nothing I enjoy more than preparing my home for guests, cooking and entertaining. I do admit I am a bit more Martha Stewart than I am Holly Golightly.
I'm not going to lie, one of my main concerns was making a positive impression upon this man.Don't get me wrong, my children are wonderful but they are on occasion a bit loud, hyper and have been known to strip off at the strangest times and run around the house nude. So maybe I did have a deep desire for my children to be somewhat like the Van Traps, maybe without all the singing (however that would be a nice addition to the evening.) And as for my husband and I....Mr. and Mrs. Brady might be a nice couple to mimic.
After much discussion, research on Korean culture, food and social etiquette it came to me....simply be yourself, allow your family to be themselves. After all, this man, is probably wanting to experience a real American family.
Now, what would we cook? Stir fry and Costco egg rolls? No that is trying to hard. Chili? Maybe that would be too spicy. Shepard's Pie? After all my roots are Irish...no too bland. Ahhh I know, Spaghetti. It's easy, tasty, and who doesn't like spaghetti?
When Mr. Song arrived at our home that evening, I had everything ready. The cake was baked, the spaghetti on the stove, fresh garlic bread in the oven and a bottle of wine breathing.
Mr. Song greeted me with a handshake and a little bow, "how polite," I thought to myself. After putting coats away, and preparing the table, we began having dinner. This is when it happened, my darling little 2 year old began making faces, pulling her noodles out one by one, spreading sauce all over her face and yes, singing very loudly, not quite the Song of Music but at least she was trying. "Macy, sweetie, please be quiet and eat." I said in my nicest Mrs. Brady sort of way. She continued on, and now her brother was even joining in on the noise. Oh no, I thought to myself. He is going to think we're heathens! "Kids, that's enough, quiet down now." I repeated, giving my husband a kind of "say something to them" look. Just then, kind Mr. Song smiled saying, "Let them talk, be loud, if they didn't do that, we would think they were sick." Then it hit me, right up side the head. He was so right. Children are children, they talk, they sing, they have fun, with every little part of life including spaghetti. They don't try to impress people, they don't hold heirs. They simply be, and you can accept them how they are or....well, they might just run around naked.
My husband and I both smiled, and I felt an immediate sense of calm embrace me. Our visitor was so ultimately comfortable, our children were comfortable, so why weren't we?
I think we try so hard to impress people, to give them the experience we think they desire maybe forgetting for a moment that we are not them, and we do not know what they are looking for in their experience.
Before Mr. Song left, he played with my children, lifting them up to the ceiling, giving them horsey rides and placing Korean coins and dollars into their hands telling them both that someday they will be great important people in this world. He took pictures of us all together and some of the kids. And, he thanked us for a "genuine American family experience." "You are so kind to have me into your home to meet your family, thank you so much." He said, with a very kind smile.
After he left, my husband and I both agreed that our lives were better because of this guest, this perfect stranger who came into our home and our lives, for just a couple of hours to show us what it means to just simply be ourselves.
Thank you Mr. Song
Friday, December 14, 2007
Magical Christmas
Change is indefinite, that's for sure. Every year, Christmas seems to change a little more. I will say that it is definitely improving. For a while, before I had children of my own, Christmas had lost some of its charm. This really bothered me, especially since I was always the child playing Bing Crosby Christmas tunes in April, wishing and counting down the days until the arrival of the glorious holiday season. Christmas was about the most magical thing ever until I turned 12 (yes, I know its a bit old for finding out that Santa is indeed a figment of my imagination) Sure, my brothers informed me earlier, however I just didn't want to believe them, I found it more enjoyable to believe in Santa than not. Everything seemed more enchanting knowing that jolly old Saint Nick was going to be in my house.
So....I turned 12, Junior High was on it's way. My Dad sat me down and said "Honey, come on, there is no Santa. No Easter Bunny, No Tooth Fairy." "Really?" I replied, with tears in my eyes. I could tell from the look on his face that it was true. In fact, I had known it all along. Too many things just didn't line up. I remember crying a lot that day.Not so much about that loss of Santa but more about the loss of innocence and magic that surrounded that big guy in the red suit.
Time has a way of both healing and changing things for the better. After having my son in 2003 and my daughter in 2005, I came to realize the true beauty behind this holiday. Nothing brings me more joy than watching their little eyes twinkle as they see the Christmas tree for the first time lit up. Or, the joy in their laughter as they open their presents. This year, I took both of my children to see Santa Clause, and although Macy cried her little heart out because as she says "Santa is a naughty guy" both her and Jackson had a wonderful time visiting with Santa.
After their visit, we went into another store across the way from Santa's station. I was busy shopping and then, I looked over to see something so dear to my heart, so innocent and pure. My son Jackson looking over at Santa just trying so hard to get his attention. "I need to tell him something," he said very eagerly. I looked up at Santa he smiled, waved and then got up out of his big chair walking over towards Jackson. "Go on honey," I said to my son. Of course, Jackson went running into Santa's arms for a big hug and then they exchanged whispers and smiles. Mall Santa or not, this guy was good. Any person on earth Santa or not, who can make my little boy beam like that is worth something great in my book. Jackson returned with a candy cane and a huge grin on his face. "What did he say, I asked? Still glowing, Jackson said "He told me to have a Merry Christmas." I looked up at Santa, he was still looking our way, I smiled and suddenly felt that giddy little feeling coming back inside my heart. The true spirit and magic of Christmas.
Things in your life may change, but if you look a little closer, you will find that although things may appear to be different, the true feelings and spiritual emotions that you have always had are still there, it just sometimes takes something extra special to re-awaken them.
So....I turned 12, Junior High was on it's way. My Dad sat me down and said "Honey, come on, there is no Santa. No Easter Bunny, No Tooth Fairy." "Really?" I replied, with tears in my eyes. I could tell from the look on his face that it was true. In fact, I had known it all along. Too many things just didn't line up. I remember crying a lot that day.Not so much about that loss of Santa but more about the loss of innocence and magic that surrounded that big guy in the red suit.
Time has a way of both healing and changing things for the better. After having my son in 2003 and my daughter in 2005, I came to realize the true beauty behind this holiday. Nothing brings me more joy than watching their little eyes twinkle as they see the Christmas tree for the first time lit up. Or, the joy in their laughter as they open their presents. This year, I took both of my children to see Santa Clause, and although Macy cried her little heart out because as she says "Santa is a naughty guy" both her and Jackson had a wonderful time visiting with Santa.
After their visit, we went into another store across the way from Santa's station. I was busy shopping and then, I looked over to see something so dear to my heart, so innocent and pure. My son Jackson looking over at Santa just trying so hard to get his attention. "I need to tell him something," he said very eagerly. I looked up at Santa he smiled, waved and then got up out of his big chair walking over towards Jackson. "Go on honey," I said to my son. Of course, Jackson went running into Santa's arms for a big hug and then they exchanged whispers and smiles. Mall Santa or not, this guy was good. Any person on earth Santa or not, who can make my little boy beam like that is worth something great in my book. Jackson returned with a candy cane and a huge grin on his face. "What did he say, I asked? Still glowing, Jackson said "He told me to have a Merry Christmas." I looked up at Santa, he was still looking our way, I smiled and suddenly felt that giddy little feeling coming back inside my heart. The true spirit and magic of Christmas.
Things in your life may change, but if you look a little closer, you will find that although things may appear to be different, the true feelings and spiritual emotions that you have always had are still there, it just sometimes takes something extra special to re-awaken them.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Laugh Your Way To A Better You
When is the last time you laughed? I mean really laughed. None of that "oh your so funny, ha ha" adult type laughing. I'm talking about no holding back, snorting, red faced, pee your pants laughter. If your like me, you will ponder this question for a while and then realize, that "wow, I haven't done that in a long time." And then, you will begin to wonder just why this type of laughter is missing from your life.
This is what happened to me last night as I heard my four year old son ask his little sister, "What does the doctor say?" She would then reply in a very silly manner, "Eat your food!" Each time she would say this, Jackson would laugh hysterically. This little dialogue continued back and forth as I was cooking dinner for about 25 minutes. Like most mothers who have so much stuff going on between the hours of 5-8 p.m, I was a bit stressed out. Dinner was in the mix, the kids needed baths, and I wanted to spend at least 10 minutes with my husband before he decided to go to bed. "Jackson that's enough" I said, feeling my nerves unravel as he asked Macy "What does the doctor say?" for the 45th time. He then looked at me and began cracking up as she shouted in her very cute high and often demanding tone, "Eat your food!" This, I thought was enough to make me smile. Jackson couldn't stop laughing. His little body shook as his face turned red as he tried to contain his overall jolliness. Who am I to make him stop laughing?
Adults need laughter. We have all heard the age old saying that laughter, indeed is the best medicine. Research has shown the benefits of laughter ranging from a stronger immune system to reducing symptoms of depression. People are even starting laughter groups. There is this amazing Doctor out of India named Madan Kataria. Through research, Dr. Kataria developed the idea of Laughter Yoga. By incorporating physical movement, playful interaction (chanting ho, ho, ha, ha) and gentle yogic breathing techniques this "laughter yoga" is designed to reduce stress and make you feel eons better about your whole life in general! Isn't there a pill for this, you may ask? Yes, and that is part of our countries problem.
Do you want to laugh? I do, and I don't want it to involve alcohol. I mean, I want to really get a good gut roll, "I cant breathe," kind of laugh going on. Laughter is said to burn calories, this is always good.
The next time Jackson asks a silly question over and over and over, I think I will drop what I'm doing and jump right in to the madness. After all, we only live once, and to think one of the benefits of laughter is prolonged longevity. Come on people, jump on the laughter band wagon and let loose. It isn't that hard and once you get started, you wont be able to stop!
This is what happened to me last night as I heard my four year old son ask his little sister, "What does the doctor say?" She would then reply in a very silly manner, "Eat your food!" Each time she would say this, Jackson would laugh hysterically. This little dialogue continued back and forth as I was cooking dinner for about 25 minutes. Like most mothers who have so much stuff going on between the hours of 5-8 p.m, I was a bit stressed out. Dinner was in the mix, the kids needed baths, and I wanted to spend at least 10 minutes with my husband before he decided to go to bed. "Jackson that's enough" I said, feeling my nerves unravel as he asked Macy "What does the doctor say?" for the 45th time. He then looked at me and began cracking up as she shouted in her very cute high and often demanding tone, "Eat your food!" This, I thought was enough to make me smile. Jackson couldn't stop laughing. His little body shook as his face turned red as he tried to contain his overall jolliness. Who am I to make him stop laughing?
Adults need laughter. We have all heard the age old saying that laughter, indeed is the best medicine. Research has shown the benefits of laughter ranging from a stronger immune system to reducing symptoms of depression. People are even starting laughter groups. There is this amazing Doctor out of India named Madan Kataria. Through research, Dr. Kataria developed the idea of Laughter Yoga. By incorporating physical movement, playful interaction (chanting ho, ho, ha, ha) and gentle yogic breathing techniques this "laughter yoga" is designed to reduce stress and make you feel eons better about your whole life in general! Isn't there a pill for this, you may ask? Yes, and that is part of our countries problem.
Do you want to laugh? I do, and I don't want it to involve alcohol. I mean, I want to really get a good gut roll, "I cant breathe," kind of laugh going on. Laughter is said to burn calories, this is always good.
The next time Jackson asks a silly question over and over and over, I think I will drop what I'm doing and jump right in to the madness. After all, we only live once, and to think one of the benefits of laughter is prolonged longevity. Come on people, jump on the laughter band wagon and let loose. It isn't that hard and once you get started, you wont be able to stop!
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Talkin 'Bout My Generation
Have you ever really thought about the generation you live in? This is something I often think about. Growing up seemed normal, I was your average 80's child with my scrunchies and Fraggle Rock backpack. I never thought about generation or fitting in with the times. My day's were filled with school, recess and Saved By the Bell (that Slater was a major hottie in my day). This whole generation confusion started occurring the summer before I began high school. I found myself enjoying Led Zepplin and Jefferson Airplane more than I did the Backstreet Boys and Britney. Most of my after school shopping was spent in thrift stores rather than the mall. My favorite pair of pants wasn't your hipster low rise jeans, they were plaid, polyester bell bottoms that I had to safety pin in order to keep up (no belt loops). Sure, I got teased a bit, some of the more "hip" girls would ask me where I shop, and I always told them. It did help that I had a few partners in crime that, too, were obviously lost in some generational warp. I guess we never realized that we weren't fitting in with the times. We merely spent our day's hanging out in parking lots trying to attract boys. That's pretty normal 90's girl stuff right?
Flash forward to now....I haven't really thought about generation in a long time. I realized that I must always seem as though I am a child of the 60's, or early 70's pre- super disco era. People still comment me on my thrift store/yard sale fashions, however now I don't get smug looks or criticized like I did in high school, I get...compliments. Unlike the clothes I wore in high school that were "dated" my clothing is now "vintage." Fashion and music always come back around. Case in point, Cameron Crow's film, Almost Famous which brought back the return of the faux fur coat, worn perfectly by Miss Penny Lane. Oh how I covet the jacket she wears in that movie.
Each generation has something wonderful about it. The 80's had Devo, the 90's had grunge and well the year 2000 and up just seems like a mixture of every decade below it. Who ever thought leggings would make a comeback?
The moral of all of this, you may ask? Pick your generation and go with it. Each person has their own unique aura about them. I seem to put off this hippie bohemian vibe that just happens to be in style right now, and that's, well....great, for now until grunge makes a return. Hang on to the generation your representing, it will rear its head again.
Flash forward to now....I haven't really thought about generation in a long time. I realized that I must always seem as though I am a child of the 60's, or early 70's pre- super disco era. People still comment me on my thrift store/yard sale fashions, however now I don't get smug looks or criticized like I did in high school, I get...compliments. Unlike the clothes I wore in high school that were "dated" my clothing is now "vintage." Fashion and music always come back around. Case in point, Cameron Crow's film, Almost Famous which brought back the return of the faux fur coat, worn perfectly by Miss Penny Lane. Oh how I covet the jacket she wears in that movie.
Each generation has something wonderful about it. The 80's had Devo, the 90's had grunge and well the year 2000 and up just seems like a mixture of every decade below it. Who ever thought leggings would make a comeback?
The moral of all of this, you may ask? Pick your generation and go with it. Each person has their own unique aura about them. I seem to put off this hippie bohemian vibe that just happens to be in style right now, and that's, well....great, for now until grunge makes a return. Hang on to the generation your representing, it will rear its head again.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Tap Dancing Is For Boys!
As parents, we are constantly trying to find new and interesting activities for our children that will both enrich and add fun to their little lives. I have always imagined involving both of my children in the magical world of dance. I have secret little fantasies of them performing numerous numbers that would just wow the pants off of any Broadway reviewer. Although my kids are still young, my son is 4 and my daughter 2, in my mind there is simply no reason why I shouldn't get them started like...now!
It all started when my son saw a video clip on Disney of a little red headed boy named Daniel Cook. You see, Daniel goes around Toronto discovering new things to try. On this particular day, he was trying out tap dancing, and boy did he love it. As soon as my son Jack saw Daniel dancing, he hopped up off the couch and began moving his feet, arms and I will say it wasn't bad. "Do you like that sweetie?" I asked. He smiled and said "Yeah, I want to tap dance." You can only imagine how my mind started moving. I pictured a young Fred Astaire, or more modern Justin Timberlake. In my opinion, there is nothing more attractive than a man who can dance. It just demonstrates dedication and a love for the arts. Wait, hold on....I still have to talk to my husband about this.
So, as you can imagine when I told my husband, who I will say is very sensitive, although at times I think to myself where did I find Mr. Caveman? You see, I don't think he has a real problem with it even though his first words were "tap dancing is for girls." Of course I rebutted with "Hello...what about Fred Astaire, Jack Haley from the Wizard of Oz, Albert Finney as Daddy Warbucks in Annie, and numerous other male tap dancing legends, did I mention Justin Timberlake? Come on, the ladies love him." Point taken, that was actually pretty easy. "Just don't put him in ballet." Which then brought up the very interesting question of what a male ballerina is even called.
My Father, Jack's grandpa on the other hand wasn't so convinced. I had mentioned earlier that day to my Mom that I was going to put Jack in tap dancing. Sitting at the table with a very concerned look on his face he asks me, "are you really going to put that boy into tap dancing?" Wow, you would have thought his world just crashed around him, this coming from the father who has raised two excellent hunters (my brothers), I am a vegetarian go figure. "Yes, Dad I am." I then went on to give him my whole "Tap dancing male legends" schpil. He wasn't buying it. The funny part came when he suggested that it was me who wanted to put Jack in tap and he was sure there was no desire from this young 4 year old to do anything of the sorts. "Do you really want to tap dance Jack?" asked my father. Just then Jack did the most amazing, little shuffle that would make your heart smile. "Does that answer your question?" Was all I needed to say.
As you can imagine, I hate gender roles. I will be the first to say however that when my son picks out a pink balloon over a blue balloon (he's only done this once) I do feel a little urge to say, "Oh honey, don't you want the blue one, pink is for girls." Instead though, I stop, and take a look at that little boy's face who is just so happy to have a balloon regardless of the color. I see a little man that has no clue that colors are associated with certain stereotypes and that to be a "tough man" you should always choose something green or blue. He is alive, happy and most of all he is unique. For the most part he chooses trucks over dolls and green over purple but if he wants to try on his sisters tutu and tap dance his little heart out all over the kitchen then by golly that is what he is going to do.
He starts tap lessons next month...Ahh, the satisfaction of the sound of little clicking heels.
It all started when my son saw a video clip on Disney of a little red headed boy named Daniel Cook. You see, Daniel goes around Toronto discovering new things to try. On this particular day, he was trying out tap dancing, and boy did he love it. As soon as my son Jack saw Daniel dancing, he hopped up off the couch and began moving his feet, arms and I will say it wasn't bad. "Do you like that sweetie?" I asked. He smiled and said "Yeah, I want to tap dance." You can only imagine how my mind started moving. I pictured a young Fred Astaire, or more modern Justin Timberlake. In my opinion, there is nothing more attractive than a man who can dance. It just demonstrates dedication and a love for the arts. Wait, hold on....I still have to talk to my husband about this.
So, as you can imagine when I told my husband, who I will say is very sensitive, although at times I think to myself where did I find Mr. Caveman? You see, I don't think he has a real problem with it even though his first words were "tap dancing is for girls." Of course I rebutted with "Hello...what about Fred Astaire, Jack Haley from the Wizard of Oz, Albert Finney as Daddy Warbucks in Annie, and numerous other male tap dancing legends, did I mention Justin Timberlake? Come on, the ladies love him." Point taken, that was actually pretty easy. "Just don't put him in ballet." Which then brought up the very interesting question of what a male ballerina is even called.
My Father, Jack's grandpa on the other hand wasn't so convinced. I had mentioned earlier that day to my Mom that I was going to put Jack in tap dancing. Sitting at the table with a very concerned look on his face he asks me, "are you really going to put that boy into tap dancing?" Wow, you would have thought his world just crashed around him, this coming from the father who has raised two excellent hunters (my brothers), I am a vegetarian go figure. "Yes, Dad I am." I then went on to give him my whole "Tap dancing male legends" schpil. He wasn't buying it. The funny part came when he suggested that it was me who wanted to put Jack in tap and he was sure there was no desire from this young 4 year old to do anything of the sorts. "Do you really want to tap dance Jack?" asked my father. Just then Jack did the most amazing, little shuffle that would make your heart smile. "Does that answer your question?" Was all I needed to say.
As you can imagine, I hate gender roles. I will be the first to say however that when my son picks out a pink balloon over a blue balloon (he's only done this once) I do feel a little urge to say, "Oh honey, don't you want the blue one, pink is for girls." Instead though, I stop, and take a look at that little boy's face who is just so happy to have a balloon regardless of the color. I see a little man that has no clue that colors are associated with certain stereotypes and that to be a "tough man" you should always choose something green or blue. He is alive, happy and most of all he is unique. For the most part he chooses trucks over dolls and green over purple but if he wants to try on his sisters tutu and tap dance his little heart out all over the kitchen then by golly that is what he is going to do.
He starts tap lessons next month...Ahh, the satisfaction of the sound of little clicking heels.
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