Just the Basics

I have work!!!! Which will keep me busy and away from posting on this lovely blog on a semi-regular basis. I will try to post something at least once a week and reach back into the Retro Jessie pile, which is waiting. Our daily summer routine is falling into place, including negotiating (read fighting) about the rules and structures we agreed on. Peace sometimes seems a very foreign concept in this house and I keep going back and re-reading Desmond Tutu, thinking: if they can do it in South Africa surely we can do it here in one house on one street in this little Canadian city! Forgiveness seems to be the key.

So for today … I forgive all teenagers all transgressions against all makers of miracles (read mothers). But just for this one day!

Today=basic chores; basic to do (Which includes “work on your dreams and goals.” Now how hard can that really be and do we really need to argue about it? Note: dreams and goals are NOT defined or vetted by me, they can be (and are) anything, including “write great lyrics and send to Jonas Brothers.”); pretty basic lunch; basic be social with Aunt who is over to stay and very interested in me and tries to make conversation but all I seem to be able to respond with today is “I don’t know.”; basic bleach facial hair; basic dishes; basic cut veggies for pizza dinner because I have invited about 6 friends over to eat here and go to movie up the street; and basic go to bank so I have money to go to the movie with my friends.

Pretty balanced summer day, if you assume that all basic activities require no prompting. Hmmm. So that’s where my day goes when I am supposed to be working straight through! (I work freelance, from home. It has its obvious benefits and, especially in summer, its own particular drawbacks.) Next week volunteering with our local Shakespeare-in-the-park company—Company of Fools—starts and that will keep her out and doing something she loves about three nights a week. This is a different summer for us, as it is the first summer she is not in some form of day camp for July. While as she matured she moved from basic camp to leadership camp to arts leadership camp, she isn’t yet at the point where she can participate in a paid summer job, so she is volunteering.

How that balance plays out through out the month will be the interesting challenge. So. Stay tuned and place your bets:

• Will Nancy and Jessie still be talking by the end of the month?
• Will chores and other skills for independence end up in the green bin along with the potato and strawberry scraps, to be pulled out and recycled in September?
• Will Nancy have been able to put in any billable hours?
• Will Jessie stay awake through all her volunteer time? (note to readers: Jessie has a tendency to fall asleep at any job/work that requires sitting down for an extended—or even a short—period of time. Unless you are performing Shakespeare!)

Will any of this matter in the long run? As parents, we like to think so, but I am not really sure!

Dancing Down the Street: The Ottawa Jazz Festival

The call came out late Tuesday: Propeller was invited to street dance in the opening day parade for the Ottawa Jazz Festival. Mike Essoundry—esteemed percussionist and composer, and one of the musicians working with Propeller—needed more dancers to accompany The Mash Potato Mashers (his jazz street/marching band) as it lead the parade out from City Hall and wound its way down Elgin Street (one of our major downtown streets) and through Confederation Park to the main stage of the Jazz Festival.

Jess was psyched. “Of COURSE I want to do it!” Dancing, as I noted before, and in public, as I alluded to before, is the way life plays itself out. And so who am I, really, to try to persuade her that it isn’t so, when life’s circumstances and our community keep presenting her with opportunities to dance through life? At first I thought of working on those “independence skills” and getting her to figure out how to get there and take the bus on her own (she’d certainly be able to do it). But then I figured, who would want to miss a parade? As you can see, I am easily sidetracked from some of our goals, but Jessie just knows the most interesting people who invite her to some of the best things going on in the city, so I often find a way to go along for the ride. It may be years before she masters the bus!

Only two other members of Propeller were able to go at such short notice, Shara and MH, but there were other dancers from The School of Dance, and banner holders, and of course the musicians! All decked in red (right down to Mike’s funky Canadian red plaid Elmer Fudd hat) and silver and gold (the instruments). As they marched down the street, with police escort to close off the intersections, people began to join in and dance with them. (See video, just a few clips strung together, I figured it out! Notice how much slower the dancers are moving at the end.)

Jessie, as you can see, was in her element. MH catapulted her electric chair over curbs and grassy hills and spun and intersected with the other dancers and musicians. At one corner the group stopped and formed a circle and Shara delighted audience and musicians alike with some African dancing, inviting others into the circle.

When it was all over and we were sitting together on the bench waiting for MH’s paratranspo bus, the sousaphone player stopped to talk. “Like a Disney parade!” I said. “Not quite,” he said, “While they are fun, they leave no room for mistakes and so no room for being human.” “I like this kind of parade,” he continued, “it’s much more fun and I feel like I want to dance and march along. I’m not just watching, I’m participating.”

I thought about that on the way home. One, how Jessie has invited me into a community that is so open and full of life and creativity, and two, how Jessie (and her peers) invite others to be full participants in a joyful life. Now that is a great gift!

(Photos and video © 2010 Nancy Huggett and not to be reproduced or shared without consent)

Avenue Q

Jessie loves musicals, hence her passion for the Glee TV show. And she loves “product,” hence her collection of t-shirts, albums, and posters from everything from Singing in the Rain and Shirley Temples’s Bright Eyes to Rent, and Wicked. She also happens to have some friends who love musicals almost as much as she does. So the three tickets I managed to get at a discount price for the Broadway show Avenue Q—currently on its North American tour—were a great coup and a highly-anticipated end of school/beginning of summer treat.

Before leaving for LA, Dan reminded me to make sure that Jessie took out money to be able to buy a souvenir from the show. We had been to too many shows and events where we didn’t bring enough money (and Jessie forgot to bring her own) for a t-shirt or other smartly marketed merchandise—I swear they only take shows on tour to sell that stuff—and had to negotiate our way through a Jessie meltdown. This time I made sure to write it on every calendar and to do list (I have many, but don’t assume that means that anything actually gets done) floating around the house. And I actually made a point to squirrel away $20 (just in case, and to add to whatever amount Jessie had saved) in the envelope with the tickets.

Showtime arrived. I drove the girls all decked out for their night on “Broadway”—the National Arts Centre here in Ottawa. They were singing, they were excited, they were ready for a show! Jessie checked to make sure she had money. Decided not to buy a drink or a snack at the fancy café before the show just so she would be able to buy whatever item she desired to remind her of this special night, this special show—a loopy Sesame Street kind of guide to adulthood.

At 10:30 the phone call came. To pick them up. I can hear a crowd . . . and . . . is that tears? Please! NOT tears!? “Mom! There are NO souvenirs!” Sigh. We go to all this trouble to actually remember the money and there is no merchandise? What kind of operation is this anyways? It’s not bonafide American Broadway without merchandise. I want my money back! Or at least somebody to tell me why we can never quite successfully avoid a meltdown.

You see, Jess wears her heart on her sleeve. And when that heart gets set on things going a certain way, and they don’t, it breaks. Out loud and in public. Sometimes it is a trait of hers I admire. Sometimes not. This being able to roll with the punches is a quality we’re still working on: its called resilience and there are books and research papers and even websites about it. I just want to know if you can buy it, over the counter, and inject it in your children. The funny thing is, there is so much that she IS resilient to (or has at least survived with her spirit intact, which is, I think, a definition of resilience), like years of having to fight to be included in school and managing the social minefield of the playground and high school hallways.

What does seem to work is a liberal dose of commiseration and letting her cry or express herself however she wants without shutting her down. A bit of a challenge for me! Especially in public places. (Hmmmm, what is it with me and public places?)

But by the time I swung by to pick them up she had recovered. And was singing, loudly, with the girls, all the way home:

The Internet is really really great
For p_rn!
I’ve got a fast connection so I don’t have to wait
For p_rn!
There’s always some new site
For p_rn!
I browse all day and night
For p_rn!
I’m surfing at the speed of light
For p_rn!

Its going to be a long summer.