Click here for the prequel to this post it popped up yesterday - a day I don't usually post. One of the first times I met Lulu was at the Midwest championships. Curly was probably 7. Lulu and I stood talking, and Lulu bent down to where Curly was sitting on a chair next to me.
Lulu: Honey, you have to get your shoes on right now. You dance in a little bit.
I was STANDING RIGHT THERE. Who the heck does this chick think she is? Her 'hurry up' comment sent Curly into panic mode. I reminded Curly that she was one of the last dancers in the rotation. Not to worry. We weren't going to put her shoes on yet.
*Curly's shoes were a tad small. No dancer wants to buy new, not-broken-in shoes right before a competition. That's like begging for blisters. Curly used to get VERY attached to shoes and hated getting new ones. Her first pair of hard shoes have holes in the bottom. They're on display in the basement by her stage. At this competition, our plan was to wiggle into her shoes and warm up 10 minutes before she danced. When Bossy-Face got up in my kid's business, we had an hour before she danced.
|The lengths I went to convince her to get new shoes.|
|It was a fad for awhile to cover your kid's dancing shoes in duct tape, to make them appear shiny. Have I mentioned how much I love the world of Irish dancing?|
After I calmed Curly down, I turned to Lulu, who I barely knew: Yeah, this isn't my first rodeo. Don't EVER tell my kid that it's time to get shoes on. I've totally got this.
A few years go by, and now I know. I steer clear of Crazy-Pants at all cost. She's the type that would drop lame bait into conversation and then wait for me to bite. I wasn't interested in what she was laying down. She had to find another bait-taker. I greeted her from a distance.
Curly tolerates Lulu's brat kid. Brat-kid might say to Curly: I DANCED BETTER THAN YOU TODAY.
I have no patience. Zero. For that crap. Curly has my blessing to tell Brat-kid where to go. So far she hasn't, because she doesn't want to be rude or disappoint Mary. Brat-kid has kicked over her trophy in disappointment, refused to congratulate Curly when Curly beats her, and pouted over a gazillion things. She's an only child and she bosses her conniving mother around. It ain't pretty.
|Little Curly, age 6. Took 17th in an|
under 8 Midwest Championships.
Almost 2 years younger than
some of the competitors.
One day about 3 years ago, Curly got in the car after class and was unusually quiet. I asked her what was up. She wouldn't say.
Me: Well, I'm going to make you tell me when we get home so you'd save a lot of time sharing whatever it is now.
Curly: Lulu came into the studio for half of class. (so weird, why is she in the class - parents aren't allowed, but Mary doesn't enforce the rule). She kept whispering with Megan (a 20-something teacher who adored Curly but was wildly immature and spoke way too freely with young girls about her love life, etc. A few years ago, Mary got rid of her. Curly was devastated. I saw things clearly, so I wasn't). I felt like Lulu was talking with Megan about the way I dance because she kept looking at me while she was whispering. At the end of class Lulu asked me if I thought Brat-face was improving - she asked if I knew that she was paying for Brat-face to have 2 hour private lessons with Megan.
I drove home with smoke coming out of my ears. God help the person that tries to intimidate my kid. I called Mary. While Mary sees Brat-face and Lulu, she's over the moon about Curly. Mary distributed a notice that all parents had to sign. No parent allowed in the studio. Hooray.
This helped, but Mary is wishy washy about sticking to her rules. Lulu thinks that she and Mary are besties. She'll use any excuse to weasel her way into the studio. "OH MAR, WHY DON'T I CHANGE THE WINDOW DISPLAY FOR YOU" or "CAN I USE THE RESTROOM?" - she'd then stick around and not leave.
Occasionally I'd point out to Mary that Lulu was hanging around in the studio AGAIN, and she'd send out a reminder.
Then in the fall of 2020, I waited in my car during Curly's class rather than going home to do a few things before racing back. Curly was late. After over 2 hours in the car, I was done. The more frustrations that life presents, the more short-fused I feel. Laddie's nonsense was at a peak. I got out of my car and peeked inside the door from the sidewalk.
Curly was helping another student learn a step as a favor to Mary. Meanwhile, Lulu was INSDIE the studio. Hello no parents rule PLUS covid. She wasn't supposed to be inside.
I didn't hold back. I yelled into the door, over the sound of the music: WHY IS LULU INSIDE? SHE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE IN THERE. I DON'T GET IT.
I walked back to my car. An angry Curly came out a minute later. When she got in the car, I told her that even if I made her mad -I was right. Lulu had no business being in there and I was sick of it.
As I started to drive away, Lulu left the studio and was walking on the sidewalk to her car. I slowed down (real slow), rolled down my window, and shouted:
HEY LULU, YOU CAN WAIT IN YOUR CAR LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!
Then I drove away knowing she heard me. Curly was upset with me. My phone rang. It was Mary. The call was on Bluetooth.
Mary: I can tell that Curly was upset when she left and I want to tell her don't be mad at your mom. Your mom's right. Lulu doesn't belong in here. She breaks the rules all the time.
Curly felt better.
At the next class, Mary had a sandwich board on the sidewalk with a chalk reminder: IF YOU'RE NOT A STUDENT IN MY CLASS, YOU CANNOT ENTER.
Curly was so happy. She loves that Mary finally posted a sign. As for me, there's nothing like letting off a little steam, taking matters into your own hands, and HOLLERING AT LULU WHO THINKS THE RULES DON'T APPLY TO HER. I promise to record my next encounter with Lulu.
Mini used to dance. She knows Lulu. Curly busted a gut telling Mini the story. Mini was thrilled.
Anyone else know a parent or coworker who thinks the rules don't apply to them?