A week after being at Disney World with my daughter at Nationals for Irish Dance competition, I was at Kripalu, the yoga and retreat center in Stockbridge, Massachussetts.  As I sat in the cafeteria enjoying the silent meal that breakfast is designated as daily, I was struck by the vast difference between where I was and where I had been a week earlier.

At Disney, I was in a cafeteria setting for breakfast.  It was far from silent.  As I searched for a healthy option, my daughter’s breakfast (and everyone else’s around her for that matter) was heaped with a pile of greasy bacon.  The majority of the people ranged from mildly overweight to grossly obese and their food choices reflected it.  Soda was prevalent as a morning beverage.  Fashions were T-shirt based and multi-themed. There was a frenetic energy and excitement in the air.

Breakfast at Kripalu was peaceful and as I said, quiet.  For a very spiritual setting, there were only a couple of Buddha bellies, all other bodies ranged from beautifully toned to consciously attempting to become so.  There was no bacon and brown rice filled many a plate.  Caffeine was not in great supply.  It came only in Green Tea. Fashion ranged from hiking wear to yoga wear and nobody stood out in any obvious way.  The energy was calm and most motions seems purposeful.

It was so odd to suddenly be struck by the contrast in my week.  I had a good time in both places.  I am trying to refrain from judgment and just offer an observation, but it was truly like visiting two different lands like you might do at Disney.  Instead of Tomorrow Land and Frontier Land it was like having been in Consciousville vs. Unconsciouville.  So much for not judging!

I can do both ‘villes’ for sure, but I can say with certainty that I could sustain my sanity much more easily in Consciousville.  It felt better and seemed like better fuel for the long run.

What kind of atmosphere sustains you for the long run?

Disney seemed like a bargain after the competition. Between an emergency pair of shoes, the consolation jacket, the fee to put our old dress in the “Dress Shop” in hopes of selling it, the cost of a proper dress bag for her costume (our turn to own a blunt triangle bag) and the other last minute impulse buys of extra make up and colored hair spray (gotta make her blonder, you know!), $20 caps, $5 bottles of water and another autograph book were mere trinkets in comparison.

Feis moms somehow pull it out.  My hat’s off to all of them who someway, somehow make it happen for their kids who love to fly through the air, click their heels and tap their little feet into a frenzy.  I guess we don’t need to understand it.  We just have to honor that our kids love it.

Now, that Maya and I have lived through the first big disappointment, she is ready to get back to the rehearsal studio and start again in August to get ready for regionals in November.  She is begging to be on the teams in addition to doing solo competition.  (I’ll think about it)  It’s clear. This Feis Mom thing won’t be going away any time soon.

The Unsinkable Maya Rose

If you were following on Facebook, you know what happened at nationals.  I did not disappear in the middle of my conFEISsions because Maya did not place.  My computer melted down and is now back!

But yea, Maya did not make the final cut after two rounds of fierce dancing. In Irish-dance-competition language, Maya did not recall and therefore, did not place.  We found out after the marks were handed out that she only missed a spot in the recall by four places.  She got very close and came in ahead of almost half of the competitors.

It started as a magical day.  There was no FEISitude (my word for a snappy attitude on a feis day)!  We got the wig and make up on without any tension, but that all changed once we got into the competition room.  Maya was distracted by friends and other dancers practicing and did not want to take care of the routine preparations like glueing her socks to her legs.  Yes, if you do not glue the socks on, they don’t stay up and look very sloppy.

There is a lot of waiting around at these bigger competitions but we settled in and got ready to find out what order the girls danced in.  Maya danced at about the middle of the rotation and she really did great.  These were all podium-winner dancers from all over North American and a couple from Britain and Ireland.  The judges would be hard pressed to find mistakes so the judging must have come down to very fine details.  Tough, tough competition.

We (Me, Maya, her teachers and friends) were shocked that she did not recall.  She had danced so well.  Maya was so gracious.  I learned from watching her.  She held it together until we were out of the huge ballroom and in a private corner near an exit.  She had a good sob and I just broke up inside, only letting a little mist cloud my eyes.  I wish I could answer her pleas to understand why she didn’t make the cut.

Sixty dollars and a Nationals souvenir hoodie/consolation prize later, we got on our way to have a swim and relax before heading back for the awards ceremony.  Maya was completely supportive of all her friends who had placed in their own competitions.  One of them qualified for Worlds. Understandably, she did not want to stay to see the awards for her competition.

The capper to a disappointing day was that I moved out us out of the luxury Swan and Dolphin hotel to Disney’s Pop Century to be on the meal plan and do all things Disney.  It was a major bummer to move from an imitation of the ‘heavenly bed’ to a motel-like one.  To make matters worse, Disney must be cutting back because our bedspreads, blankets, sheets and towels looked like they had been through the ringer.  Hairs and stains in the bed were where I drew the line. Maya was in a heap of tears which I knew were more about the whole day than the crappy room, but the disappointments had just grown to a head.

The next day, I politely requested all NEW blankets, sheets and bedspreads and no one blinked an eye. I know it was done because the old ones were in the hall when we got back.

A new day had also brought a new focus–FUN at Disney.  Maya did not mention the competition again.  She shook it off faster than I did, to tell the truth.  A few more gray hairs for me and a growth experience for Maya. Sigh.

A small drama that could have been a big drama emerged last night shortly after my first ConFEISsion.  We only had one Ghillie. For you non Feis folks, that is one of the dance shoes an Irish Dancer wears.  The other is a hard shoe for the tap-like sound and this is the soft one that supports those magical one-legged leaps through the air. All that to say, we found we had only one shoe.  Drama ensued.

We called home to see if it could be sent.  Mark (husband) turned around for home midway to a Fourth of July gathering (Yes, us Jersey folks celebrate early.) to search for the shoe.  My thinking was that he could still make FedEx. As he searched the house,  I tried to manage my dancer who was holding back her emotions better than I expected her to.  Low and behold, no shoe was found at home and for the cost of the FedEx, I knew there’d be a vendor on site eventually who could sell us a new pair.  Maya turned it around quickly and declared that a new, stiffer shoe just may help her be a little more bouncy in her steps.

“Okay!”, I said enthusiastically to her declaration as I mentally worried that new shoes could be a little painful without a chance to break them in.

Well, off to bed we went and today we hit The Magic Kingdom in some mild rain by the opening bell at 9am.  We lucked out BIG TIME.  We waited no more than 15 minutes for anything and hit Space Mountain three times and some other favorites twice.  My feis mom friend, Megan and Maya’s buddy Carli were our hangout mates today and we made a great team.  It took Megan and I longer than we had hoped to drag the girls out of the park, though.  We hoped for some R&R for them before practicing, but they were having too much fun.

Back at the hotel, we did get those new shoes.  They are stiff, but Maya gave them a good workout as she and Carli practiced.  Actually, their practice was more of a fight for turf as the hotel is now jam-packed with Irish dancers and those ‘Starpower’ dancers (not “Dancepower” as I mistakenly called them yesterday) who are here for the duration of our competition.  Carli and Maya kept moving further down the grand hall in front of the ballroom as older girls with longer legs and louder music moved in on their turf. Nonetheless, they were great with each other, sharing floor space and feedback to get their best to happen tomorrow.

So far, the moms are behaving.  No ugly cat fights or nastiness, but you can feel everyone’s tension rising as the start of the big competition gets closer.

Maya is asleep as I write this after a major chocolate high from dinner.  I am trying to forget how un-Weight-Watcher-like my dinner was and hoping I can sleep.  The high-drama starts tomorrow.  I’ll try to give two reports while we wait for results.  Just writing that throws me into a wave of nausea.  I’ll get introspective about why later.

There is no hiding being an Irish Dancer when you get on a plane. It’s not the music they listen to that gives them away nor the red hair and freckles (there are dancers of every background).  The identifying mark is the strange shape of one particular piece of luggage—the dress bag.  Imagine a triangular shape with the top point cut off to blunt edge. Add a strap and you have an Irish Dance Dress Bag.  We saw several of them boarding our flight from Newark to Orlando today.

Very few knowing glances were exchanged until a fellow mom and I both waited for the passengers to settle in so we could put our dress bags in the overhead.  She put hers up first, I went to follow when another passenger abruptly shoved his bag right on top of her dress.  I quickly got her dress to safety and added mine to the pile.  She closed the overhead making sure no one else messed with our investments.  Only a feis mom can understand what a wonderful and protective bit of teamwork that was. (these dresses rival wedding gowns in cost!)

The flight was uneventful and once settled into our hotel, we did a little exploring and enjoyed the pool.  Then a sudden thunderstorm. Not unusual in Florida, but this one is still going five hours later as I write this.

As the day grew older and more dancers arrived, the din of the hotel and lobby got louder.  The rooms were not enough to contain the Irish dance practices so they could not help but pour out into the hallways.  That would be enough to start the vibe of competition, but to make it more exciting we are sharing the hotel with a ‘Dancepower’ dance competition.  There are dancers of every ilk everywhere!!!

Maybe it was not such a good idea to watch “Toddlers in Tiaras” last night before I fell asleep.  Today’s dancers strewn all over the hotel in garish make up and costumes were like a continued nightmare from the night before.  Irish dancers’s crazy wigs, sparkly dresses and make up are tame compared to the sites I saw today.  I could not tell if they were a convention of teens and preteens or a Liza Minelli impersonator’s conference.

The drama may only grow from here.  As Maya ices her foot which she swears doesn’t hurt and I wrap up this conFEISsion, I know the adventure has only just begun.  More soon.