while I'm on the subject...

I suspect yesterday's squash soup is actually quite good. But sadly, it's still too sweet for me, despite two cups of vegetable stock and several generous splashes of white wine vinegar. This sweet-savoury aversion is a REAL handicap. I think I'll just have to freeze it all and let Sugar D take it for a month of lunches. I'd donate it to the drop-in centre, but many folks thought I was nuts for enjoying the pumpkin soup so much, so I suspect sweet squash soup wouldn't go over well. Besides, how popular is someone for bringing in something they cooked but can't stand the taste of???

* * *

When I started this blog, I immediately covered it with google ads, convinced it would be the ticket to my working from home and, eventually, living for six months in South Africa and six months here, never having to experience cold again. It didn't canvas shopping bag of food), along with my thoughts:

PC Celebration Sparkling De-alcholized Wine, Blanc - I don't much care for sparkling wine with alcohol, so I doubt I'll be trying this one... maybe I should find a pregnant woman to invite over for New Years.

PC Decadent Hot Chocolate - haven't tried it yet, but it's the real stuff you add to milk.

PC Peach and Mango Salsa - Hey, there was peach and mango salsa in the box? I must have stuck it in the fridge before I realized. I probably won't like it (sweet-savoury aversion and all), but I bet Sugar D will be ALL over it...

PC Memories of Fuiji 3 Mushroom Sauce - probably won't try it because I don't really like crazy weird mushrooms and somehow this just makes me think of hoisin sauce, which I hate (see sweet-savoury aversion above).

PC Lingonberry Sauce - Sugar D had it in some yogurt. Said it mostly tasted like cranberry sauce.

PC Dark Chocolate Covered Caramels w/ Sea Salt - Yum! If you scrape off the salt crystals. Otherwise the salty flavour lingers long after the chocolatey caramel goodness.

PC Black Olive & Fig Tepanade - saving it for a party.

PC Dark Chocolate Candy Cane Bark - not bad but a little more toothpastey than I generally like my chocolate.

PC Biscuits for Cheese - Swee'pea went so cuckoo for these mixed crackers I barely got a taste in before they disappeared. Not bad. I'll probably get them for our next party so I don't end up with half-empty boxes of crackers I don't like.

PC Fruit Cake with Single Malt Whisky - I hate fruitcake but Sugar D, the resident fruitcake aficionado, said this was pretty good: moist, nice flavour, just not as dark as he would have liked.

So that's that. I kept my word, and only need to feel a little bit weird for pimping my space.

* * *

On Friday night, we moved Swee'pea's double bed away from his window, because we'd noticed a nasty cold draft coming in. I thought maybe that would reduce or shorten or maybe even eliminate??? his night-time visits to our bed. (No joy there by the way.)

The next night, as I was putting him to bed, he said, "Oh noooo! There's a draft coming in the window!"

He wasn't placated when I told him it wouldn't bother him across the room in his bed: "It's scary! The draft is scary!"

Which is when I explained that a draft is just cold air... He still talks about the draft but at least it's not scary anymore.

belly dance pics

I posted some belly dance photos at peripheralvision, if you're interested. They're not available for sale, but they could be if you want one... just email me.

Egad! ANOTHER Interview?

Edited to add the people who answered my questions.

Why yes, it IS another interview. I cannot get enough of this meme. So I asked Sage to interview me this time.

The woman responsible for putting together the Breast of Canada fundraising calendar lives in G-town. Would you ever pose for it?

Ooh, that’s a doozy.

Wow.

I’m really quite stymied by it. It’s never occurred to me that anyone would want me to pose in a calendar.

My first thought is no. But perhaps if someone did a really good pitch and had a really good reason for wanting ME in the calendar then maybe I would. But I’ve never been an artist’s model, so I’m just not that comfortable with putting myself OUT THERE in quite that way.

True or false? Redheads can most definitely get away with wearing pink.

True. Redheads can wear anything they damn well please and just you try to stop us. I‘ve heard people say that about pink AND red, and it’s all bullshit. Like anyone, you just have to choose the right shade. I wear a lot of red, and only recently began to allow pink, starting with a pink v on brown Vans shoes, into my wardrobe.

Why do people feel they can comment about what colours or clothes a person with a particular characteristic can wear? (Not that I’m suggesting that’s what you’ve done here, Sage, but other people – strangers, not even in clothes or shoe stores, just passing by randomly – have said things like that quite sincerely and it pisses me off.) I mean who gives a shit if I wear a colour that looks awful on me?

Have you ever started a rumour?

Well, I don't know about STARTING a rumour, but I have certainly passed them on. I remember in grade 8, my friend's mom got pregnant, and I found it quite scandalous because that meant they'd had sex -- recently! My friend had asked me not to tell anyone, I think because it was still quite early and maybe they weren't sure what they were going to do with the surprise, but I couldn't resist sharing the scandal that someone's parents had HAD SEX!

My friend got really upset with me, and her mom found out and everything, and I felt really bad. That was really when I learned that it's important to keep people's secrets.

Bellydance is rumoured to be a birthing ritual. Did you belly dance through part of your labour?

Well, as I mentioned here, I did until they strapped me to the monitors and we discovered that any time I spent upright caused the baby’s heartrate to plummet (I still can’t really refer to that baby, that baby who I feared might die, as Swee'pea). The shimmies were especially useful through a contraction, though I was only 2 cm when I had to stop moving. My belly dance instructor, who has four kids, said that belly dance doesn’t help at all in very late labour.

I’ve had it explained to me that belly dance was a way of showing girls how to be women, and I guess that would include all of our sexuality and reproduction, including conception and birth.

I started reading Kitzinger’s Ourselves as Mothers, but I stopped because it seems like in just about every culture she writes about that women are seen as inherently dirty who must follow strict codes to avoid infecting men with their dirtiness. This isn’t related to the question but I asked Sugar Daddy why this would be, why women would be seen as so awful, everywhere. And we both came to the realization that women’s sexuality is threatening in the sense that you can never REALLY be sure of paternity. Unless you very strictly control women’s sexuality. And what better way than to make women scared of it, to feel inherently dirty and evil?

Anyways, I like to think of belly dance going on behind closed doors and under veils, a secret celebration of our bodies and power and beauty.

If you had the power to make one Canadian artist (other than yourself), from any discipline, known to everyone in the world at large, who would you choose and why?

Ha! This fits right into my nefarious plan to blog about my brother ever since I discovered this weekend that he is a blogger. His blogs aren’t like mine, in that they’re all images, but still… he’s a blogger.

But first and foremost he’s an artist. He has incredible talent and drive, and I would love to see him able to support his family with his talent alone. He’s also the most well-read person I know, and he didn’t even finish university. He’s read all of Joyce and Pound and Eliot AND I’m pretty sure he even understood them all.

He has a normal website but I don't think he's updated it in a long time, though it shows his landscapes. He said he started the blogs so he had a place to put new work without having to depend on someone else. This blog shows his recent studio pieces, this blog shows a group of invented landscapes, and THIS BLOG showcases a great collaborative project. It's something to do with some guy named Rauschenberg, who I've never heard of. Anyways, anyone can participate: you download a photo, print it, then take a picture of it somewhere else and email it in to be posted. This one is one of my faves, and so is this one. Anyways, if you like to take pictures (Em and Denguy, I'm lookin' at you), check it out and participate.

AND if you have money and want to buy some art, his rocks, in my totally unbiased opinion.

PS I got the chance to interview some seriously kick-ass people:

aliki2006
notsosage
sewfunky
k-girl
denguy

Check out their interviews if you haven't already.

She's Ba-ack!

Last night in belly dance class, I was reminded of something I really admire in Ishra, the instructor. She is never judgmental. She values enthusiasm and passion over pure talent, I think, and always finds something good to say. Yet I know she is fiercely disciplined in her own dance practice, has high expectations and ambitious goals for herself. Not only have I learned the ancient art of belly dance from her. I have also learned to be less judgmental, of myself and others, and to support and find beauty in the women around me. The women are of all ages and shapes and backgrounds, yet we come together regularly in a shared interest, fumbling in our lessons, and enjoying it. Last night it occurred to me that the blogosphere is the same kind of place for me.

For being such a short and dreary month, there has been some great blogging going on in February. As my regular readers will know, sleep (as in not getting enough) has been an issue in our house this month, and as the end of the month approached I was having a hard time I had two posts I wanted to nominate for a perfect post. But the rules state explicitly that if you're going to nominate a post, you have to choose just one.

Both of these posts, together and separately, felt like they had been written just for me, and they reminded me that I am not the only mother to suffer rough nights and sleep deprivation, that I, like all other mothers, will survive. That things will get better. Both of these posts also questions conventional medical thought, which always goes over well with me.

On the one hand, I worry that with this post, I'm saying, "Ooh, you almost got a perfect post nomination, but no." But on the other I want to take the opportunity to thank the authors of those posts for their support, whether intended or not. But sorry, a dark horse entered the race at the last minute...

Then, right before the end of the month, someone named kgirl commented on my blog in a pretty familiar way. I immediately clicked over to see who she was, and was overjoyed to discover that it was the blogger formerly known as Penelope. I've been waiting for her return to the blogosphere pretty much ever since she went fishing. As I started to read her first post on her new blog, I started to get pretty excited, in expectation of a pregnancy announcement, so I started to skim to get to it. It was there, but promptly followed by its loss. I made a comment, but realized that I hadn't really taken in her words. A while later that day, I reread the post, slowly, and realized that it was beautiful, and I had to nominate it for a perfect post award. There are many reasons to love her post, beyond it marking her return (although that would be enough on its own). Kgirl's honesty is bracing and heartbreaking. Her words are beautiful.

Last night I also learned that raks (as in raks sharki, a style of belly dance) not only means dance. It also means to make the heart shake and quiver. Kgirl's post did this to me. Welcome back, Kgirl.

For more perfect posts, check out Suburban Turmoil and Petroville.

Tonight's the night

Tonight's the night I bare my muffin top for all to see. Well, everyone who comes to the Cooperator's Hall at the River Run Theatre tonight. The skirt I'm borrowing for my costume is a bit snug and really accentuates my muffin top. Oh well, I think everyone agrees that the muffin top is the best part of the muffin. I always save it for last.

And I have a perverse desire to show my belly in all its post baby glory, to say to the world, yeah I had a baby and I'm still carrying 25 extra pounds, and I'm proud of it. (Well, I'm not really proud but the audience doesn't need to know that, and I refuse to feel bad about it and hide.) I am making a concerted effort to love this pouchy belly, to love that it housed the most amazing thing to ever come into our lives for nine months, to love that this belly can really shimmy and undulate.

There is one part of the choreography where we dip chest half-moons while moving to the side, and we have to look at our chests while we do it. But it's not enough to just look at our chests; Ishra says we have to love our chests while we look. That was our homework on Wednesday night. To love our breasts. And I gotta say, it's kinda hard. They are just so pendulous since I started breastfeeding, and I'm still not used to seeing them in the mirror. But during that move, I think of the success I have had breastfeeding Swee'pea, and that makes me love them. I know that not everyone can breastfeed, despite what La Leche League may say, and I am grateful that Swee'pea knew exactly what he was doing from the beginning, even if I didn't. Mad Hatter has written a beautiful piece about the pain she experienced breastfeeding, both physical and emotional, called Milk let-down (I love your titles, Mad). I don't think I have any readers who don't also read Mad, but just in case, you should read it. I think there's a fine line between supporting and encouraging breastfeeding, and alienating mothers and babies who can't, and making mothers feel like failures.

Anyways, wish me, my muffin top and my breasts luck tonight.

The Bellydancer's Apostrophe?!?

Noooooooooooo......

This is by far the worst culprit I've seen. It's on a dvd case for God's sake! Irrevocable! And it really makes me so so so sad...

In Which Cinnamon Gurl Embeds Tons of Bellydancing Youtube Goodness

Well, I couldn't find a date for the Bewitching Bellydance Ball so I went with my homies, Swee'pea and Sugar Daddy. It's funny because a few women I know there were saying that they couldn't get their partners to come, but they got them to come to a party last week. I never have a hard time dragging Sugar Daddy to a belly dance show. Lemme see, he gets to watch scantily clad beautiful women do beautiful dances, which involve the beautiful shaking of their lovely booties and other assorted body parts, one bit at a time. Hmmm. Yep, I really don't get why those partners don't want to come.

Anyways, it was at the Transylvania Club in Kitchener. It was a rotten night to drive to Kitchener, rainy, cold and blustery, and Swee'pea was none too happy about it either. I had to hold his little hand all the way there or he wailed. Rather, he held my hand, rolling my fingers between his. (The drive home was worse. No amount of handholding would soothe him and he screamed the whole way as we drove through windy freezing rain type precipitation. Ugh!) As we drove, in between speculations about why Swee'pea was crying (Are you too cold? Maybe he's too hot... Maybe that adorable little lamb's costume is itchy? It didn't feel itchy when I dressed him in it but... Maybe the kiwifruit we gave him this morning upset his tummy. Maybe he's teething? That left eye tooth is SO close, it's totally bulging the gum out.) it occurred to us that maybe the Transylvania Club was actually a gothic dance club type thing. And that they wouldn't have changing facilities for Swee'pea. What were we taking him to?

When we found it eventually (both google maps and mapquest apparently made up a street name that didn't exist so it was a bit of a challenge), it was just like an Italian club but for Transylvanians. Who knew? Who knew there were enough Transylvanians in Kitchener to merit a Transylvanian Club? Of course, I guess it goes with the whole Oktoberfest thing.

Anyways, whatever was bothing Swee'pea in the car was not a problem at the show and he was a dream. He even fell asleep for the last half-hour, oblivious in the sling to the loud music and the enthusiasm of the crowd. The show was fantastic with three especially standout performances to me. First, a tribal fusion performance by Audra, a disciple of Rachel Brice, who I just discovered last week on youtube. This is Audra (not last night but at a show in Toronto last month):



I'm lovin' this tribal fusion thing, and apparently Rachel Brice is planning to do a workshop in our area in 2008. Maybe I'll have time to get in good enough shape to even learn something. Watch at least some of this compilation of youtube footage of Rachel and you'll see what I mean. This stuff is incredible.



Or check out this one of Rachel Brice's Indigo dance company:





Ok, so back to last night's show. The second highlight was Ishra's improv to Santana's Black Magic Woman. Seems she's getting a whole classic rock thing goin' on. But she was beautiful as always.

Aziza, the headliner, capped off the show with some extraordinary dancing. She has a great sense of humour, which came through again and again, and really captivated the audience. She did some moves I've never seen before, most amazing was basically a shimmy isolated in her upper abdomen. I haven't the slightest idea how she does this but it's incredible. I tried to find footage on youtube of this fluttery business but, although there's lots of Aziza, I couldn't find any of her belly shimmy. Wah.

And she doesn't just float across the stage, she zooms, like she's in Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon or something. Wow. This video shows some of her sense of humour and gives you a sense of the speed she crosses a stage with, but just a hint; it's better in real life.




She also performed what she calls extreme veil, which is like poi (fire dancing) but with a veil. It was beautiful too.

Ok, so I've mentioned before that I'd love to see a belly dancer in the finals of So You Think You Can Dance. My first choice would be Ishra because I think she'd kick ass but I don't think they let Canadians on the show. So I nominate Rachel Brice. Even though she's no doubt WAY too cool to even consider something so silly, I think she'd rock the house. And she has the hot goth thing going that I think would get her some serious votes. So, Rachel, if you're out there, will you at least think about it??? You went on Regis and Kelly after all, so maybe...

* * *

And, in some blogging news, I've decided to do the NaBloPoMo. I was torn, because IzzyMom's blogging rules also spoke to me, and because I already pretty much post every day, but I want the cool picture of Yoda. So I signed up.

Fave Grey's Anatomy quote from last night

I really enjoyed last night's episode. I loved the stuff about Bailey and ambivalence in motherhood. And there was a lot to choose from for favourite quote. Last week, I had a hard time coming up with anything. I've narrowed down this week's selection to two:

Alex: [If I had millions of dollars] "I'd buy the Bahamas. Or at least A Bahama."

and

Callie to McSteamy: "You were sexier when you weren't talking."

* * *

Unfortunately, insomnia appears to be becoming a habit for me. Yesterday, as you can see from my post, I discovered youtube, and watched many videos of belly dancing. So when I went to bed and closed my eyes, I just kept seeing belly dancing hips, jangling coins on hip scarves, and graceful hands; or I was dancing myself (in my head, obviously).

That Boy Can Move!

This past weekend, my friends in Invoke-Tress danced at a show in Toronto featuring Tito, a male belly dancer. I had thought that a male belly dancer would be silly or a bit gay, since the dance form has always been for and about women. Though I missed his show, I have just found some videos of him on youtube, and he is just a master! That boy can move! Here is a taste... if you have little ones sleeping near you, turn down your volume first.



Apparently at the show in Toronto, he danced on a tabla drum and went up and down the aisles, ON THE DRUM! Here is an example of him dancing on a drum.



And I forgot to mention that I too will be dancing at the Mish Mash Belly Bash.

blip in blogging => productivity

Wow, I can get a lot done when I don't write on my blog. Today was amazingly productive, but also kind of dizzying, and now I can't sleep. Some highlights:

1. called the public health about travel immunizations, especially for Swee'pea;
2. made an appointment for Swee'pea's 9-month check-up and made sure a note was put in his file to discuss timing of 12-month immunizations since we will likely be in SA for his first birthday (how cool is that?)
3. applied online for Swee'pea's birth certificate in preparation in applying for a passport
4. walked downtown and picked up applications for passports for all three of us (ours will expire shortly after we return so I think we probably need them updated before we go
5. discovered on above walk that the stroller (a Zooper Boogie) is missing an essential bolt and is falling apart; it's been leaning hard to the right and the frame has started looking warped for the last week or so; we made it home in one piece.
6. drove to two (!) fabric stores looking for a veil for choreography we will be performing in June
7. stopped by two (!) camera shops to learn about digital SLRs in preparation for my big 3-0 birthday party
8. washed the dishes (twice!) and cooked dinner
9. went to belly dance, almost on time

Ok, so that was boring but I'm awfully proud of myself. In more interesting news, mark your calendars if you'll be in the Guelph area on November 11. It's the fourth annual Mish Mash Belly Bash, Ishra's fusion belly dance show. It's always great with lots of beautiful dancers and usually at least one singer too. Ishra has told me that she will be dancing a double-veil (very difficult!) jazz fusion to Led Zepellin. It's the at the Cooperators Hall at the River Run Centre. Tickets are $25 and available at the River Run Box Office.


I also may be looking for a date to see Haft Vadi's Bewitching Bellydance Ball on October 28 in Kitchener. I'm hoping Sugar Daddy will hang out with Swee'pea and let me out on the town... tickets are $20 for that show.

And finally, via billets-doux, a webcam at a waterhole in South Africa. It looks a lot like the waterhole at Addo National Park, which we visited in 2005. This afternoon when I watched, nothing was happening in sight of the camera but the birds were singing and one in particular, a bit like a mourning dove or a pigeon but with a song unlike any I've heard in Canada, totally transported me back to the rondavel we stayed in at a great B&B outside the park (this is the very one we stayed in).


This morning, I also got obsessed with trying to capture the total cuteness of Swee'pea's chubby little toes. These are my favourites:

On Being a Mom

There is something so magical about watching Swee'pea fall asleep in the sling, at least one of his hands wrapped around at least one of my fingers, his eyes fluttering, adjusting his head slightly to get comfortable, until finally he settles into stillness. It's moments like these that make me feel like the first mother ever. Yet I take comfort in the fact that I'm not, that women have had babies for millennia and that there are elements that must be universal: the heart-stopping jolt of anxiety when our babies are sick, the overwhelming warmth of love that envelops us when we hold them sleeping or nursing.

I have been thinking about Metro Mama's post about women's work. I remember when Swee'pea was just a few days old and I was talking to my friend about the high craziness of the whole birth/motherhood thing. This was the woman who told me that childbirth hurts like hell but who I didn't really believe. I naively thought when I was pregnant that she just wasn't doing the right things. Maybe that's true and maybe my labour wouldn't have hurt so much if I hadn't been strapped to a bed the whole time because every time I sat or stood upright the baby's heartrate plummeted. (I have recently been musing about just how naive I was when I was pregnant. I believe those books that said that women don't have to feel pain giving birth. Maybe that's true for some but definitely not for all.) Anyways, I was talking to this friend and she asked, "So is Sugar Daddy a complete git around the baby?" And my answer was an absolute, unequivocal No. If anything he was more comfortable around Swee'pea in those early days than I was. I was too sore from the c-section and couldn't do anything more than nurse him. And even while I was nursing, Sugar Daddy took his role, as laid out by the lactation consultant, very seriously. He duly stroked Swee'pea's cheek and or legs to wake him if he fell asleep; he even took over the prescribed breast compressions when my hand cramped.

There were so many other c-sections in the hospital that day that I had to share a room with another woman. In fact, her c-section had been scheduled for that morning, but my emergency had bumped her back to 4 in the afternoon. The upside of the roommate situation was that it was actually a room for 4 patients so Sugar Daddy got his own bed instead of a folding cot. This roommate was up walking that night (!) and going to the bathroom and everything. For some reason her husband didn't stay at the hospital. He even worked while she was there. I imagine they figured they would save his time off for when she was home and didn't have nurses to help her. But I think this ended up being a mistake. For one thing, the nurses were helpful in the middle of the night when Swee'pea had hiccups and Sugar Daddy got nervous, but for the most part, we were solely responsible for Swee'pea once he was out of the nursery. So she ended up walking the corridors at night trying to settle her little one while I slept and Sugar Daddy held Swee'pea. Her milk was slow coming in and they had to supplement with a little feeding tube attached to her breast. I believe she needed more rest than she was getting for a good milk supply. But I'm coming to my real point. Her husband visited early in the morning before he went to work and at the end of his work day. Then he would go home to sleep uninterrupted so he could be fresh for work.

We were all really nervous handling our first newborns. But my roommate, Sugar Daddy and I just muddled through it. We didn't know how to settle these creatures but we figured it out by trial and error. But my roommate's husband didn't have the benefit of observing this trial and error. He just saw his wife handling their baby with confidence. And I believe he felt incompetent. I overheard her on the phone, talking to a friend, lamenting that her husband didn't really want to hold the baby or change his diaper because he was too nervous. "I keep telling him," she said, "I don't know what I'm doing either. I just keep trying. But he won't. He's too nervous." I often think of this woman. I didn't exchange details with her so I have no way of getting in touch her now but I wonder if her milk ever came in and if she was able to breastfeed, if her husband managed to get past his nerves.

I have another friend who says she's in charge of all things baby and she likes it that way. Her husband asks her before he does anything related to the baby. He sleeps in a separate room so that at least one of them is rested and he can cook dinner. This woman is so together I don't believe he even took any time off work. But he does the grocery shopping and other chores when he gets home at night. I really admire just how together this woman is, although that division of labour doesn't suit our family. I think it might be related to the fact that she is the one in their family who goes with the flow on most other topics.

In my family, Sugar Daddy mostly goes with the flow and I make many of the decisions. I find this role tiring, and often try to encourage Sugar Daddy to participate in decision-making. Obviously, his participation has increased with the arrival of Swee'pea. Here is something that really matters to him (bathroom tiles and long distance plans and mortgage payments don't really do it for him). But still, he almost always asks me what to dress Swee'pea in; and he forgets to change his diaper before putting him to sleep for the night; and I find myself reminding him to put him in pajamas and change his diaper as I'm leaving for my belly dance class.

Sugar Daddy has many wonderful qualities: foremost among them, he tolerates me and my neuroses, even loves me. He is a great dad and you can see that Swee'pea adores him. He cooks most meals, does all the cat care, and he puts out the garbage without me having to remind him. But there are many times when I have to tell myself that it really doesn't matter if he washes the mugs before the plates, if he folds pants differently, or if he puts Swee'pea's clothes on a different order. But I do wish he would stop asking me what to dress him in. Or where his clothes are.

Last night was my third belly dance class since I was 7 1/2 months pregnant. Swee'pea apparently was great and mostly slept while I was gone. This is a great improvement from the screaming that ensued when I went out for a couple of hours a few months ago. And I think it is definitely essential for Sugar Daddy to have time alone with Swee'pea, even if he is mostly asleep for it.

I gained nearly 50 pounds during my pregnancy. And I loved the ripe look. I lost nearly 35 of those pounds within the first three weeks post partum. Then I started putting the weight back on. I think it mostly happened in July when it was insanely hot and I was very unhappy, feeling sorry for myself that Swee'pea wasn't remotely close to sleeping through the night, or even in his crib. My unhappiness lifted when I started this blog, and when I accepted that he wasn't going to sleep in his crib so I may as well just make the best of it. Anyways, here I am, still 25 pounds heavier than I was before I got pregnant.

There is a wall of mirrors that we face in my belly dance class. I am still surprised when I see myself in it. The time of me dancing pregnant has faded in my memory so I don't expect to see a pregnant belly. But I also don't expect to see my pendulous breasts, whose momentum throws off my rhythm when I do a shoulder shimmy, or the larger belly and hips. Sometimes I start to feel disappointed in my body. But I've noticed something happening over the course of the class the last two weeks. By the end of the class, my body looks slimmer. Maybe it's because through the dance I lift my shoulders, chest and chin, and engage my abdomenal muscles. But maybe it's because the dance allows me take joy in my body and its movements, a different joy from the joy and surprise of providing sustenance for my son with it. And even though I'm desperately out of shape, even with the pendulous breasts and new ripples of flesh, I gotta say, I still got some moves. I am still capable of sensual undulations and hip circles, and playful shoulder twists and chest circles.

One school of thought holds that belly dance originated as a way of teaching girls how to be women and preparing their bodies for childbirth and labour. I certainly found shimmying helpful during my early contractions before they strapped me down (I don't mean that to sound resentful; I believe all the interventions were absolutely necessary in my case, especially the c-section, and you can read Swee'pea's birth story for more details if you like); and I was disappointed that I didn't get to do more belly dancing later in my labour. I think it most appropriate that this form of dance is also allowing to me to enjoy my body despite, or maybe because of, the changes motherhood has wrought on it. As Sugar Daddy said when I was pregnant, "Your life will never be the same again; it makes sense that your body won't either."

You learn something new everyday

Today I learned it is a bad idea to try to belly dance while showering in a clawfoot tub (because of the small space and rounded bottom).

I also learned, while giving Ezra a much-needed bath, that my husband is a master impersonator of Donald Duck. (Apparently today was a day for bathing in my family.) If I had known that he was that good at Donald Duck's voice, I would have married him much sooner.

About Us

About Me:

1. I don't own an iron. Never have.
   
2. I don't know how to iron.
3. Ariel Gore, in The Mother Trip, advises mothers to throw out their irons. So I'm one step ahead.
4. When we got married, we registered for an iron, thinking maybe it was time we had one, but no one bought it. That's ok. We probably never would have used it.
   
5. She also gives permission to loaf. Also one step ahead, although it's nice to be given permission.
6. I get really annoyed when people go through the express lane with more than the specified number of items. Though I have occasionally snuck through.
7. I have many double standards.
8. I don't always get every speck of rice cereal off Ezra after he's eaten. That stuff is like cement.
9. I'm hooked on bad reality tv.
   
10. I wish they would have a belly dancer in the finals of So You Think You Can Dance.
11. I tried to find episodes of the Turkish and Israeli versions of the show online to meet above wish. No luck.
    

About Ezra:

1. He sneezes in twos. Just like his daddy.
2. His right ear is bigger than his left and has been since birth.
3. He spits up a lot. Always has.
4. I think he has my eyebrows and he can already cock one. Cheeky monkey.
5. He gives great hugs.
   

Shakira is not a feminist

TV sucks during the week before season premieres start. So last night I found myself watching an interview with Shakira. I have a mild interest in her because she's actually a really good belly dancer or she was in the one video and one talk show performance I've seen. She's not very interesting in an interview though. It went something like this:

"Blah blah blah

I mean, I don't want to sound like a feminist, but...

Blah blah blah" (I wasn't really paying attention.)

WTF is that about?!? Last time I checked there were all kinds of feminists, not just the ball-breaking, man-hating, wouldn't want to be called one kind.

Belly Dance Again

So Ishra just phoned me to let me know about the new session of belly dance classes and rehearsals starting the week of Sept. 11. And she mentioned that local singer Livingstone hosts a variety show once in a month in Guelph, which include belly dancers. Watch Ishra dance and Stephanie.