Family Cosplay for Beginners – with Toddlers!

My husband came up with a particularly hair-brained, nerdy idea in the spring – to dress him and Sprout up as Groot and Rocket Raccoon from Guardians of the Galaxy for a comic book convention. This is despite the fact that we have exactly zero cosplay experience. This idea would have disappeared into the Black Hole of Absurd Plans that Will Never Happen if I didn’t bring it up again last month. I believe my exact words were, “If you really want to do this for Baltimore Comic Con, we better get started.” And we did (eventually). The result was after many long nights last week, we attended Baltimore Comic Con in full Groot, Gamora and Rocket Raccoon costumes! Check out our Facebook album with photos of us and other cosplayers.

Photo of my family dressed as Groot (my husband), Gamora (me), and Rocket (my two-year-old son)

Here are a few lessons we learned, especially on cosplaying with a two-year-old:

1) Don’t be intimated by cosplayers online: Because I am a child of the Internet, I began with Google. As I told Chris, this wasn’t just for Halloween and I wanted our costumes to “not be embarrassing.” However, searching cosplay brings up a huge number of photos of screen-realistic, hugely complex costumes made by people who are or want to be professional costume designers. But looking at these beautiful but staggering cosplays, along with comments like, “The aim, for me, is not to make a costume which is clearly a costume, to have a finished product look unrealistic; the aim is to make the real world around it look unrealistic” made me want to go hide in a corner. Fortunately, I got over my neuroses and we just did the best we could.

2) On the other hand, use blogs and websites for inspiration and instruction: Once you recognize that you won’t be at the level of professional or semi-professional cosplayers, you can figure out what tips and tricks you can borrow from them. Chris got a lot of ideas for his Groot costume from this heavily-linked how-to and this less-complex but still excellent one. While this blogger’s attention to detail was way beyond my ken, her instructions for Gamora’s gauntlets were really useful. Also, think about how you can substitute out certain materials if needed. I wasn’t going to buy a bunch of dog leashes for the gauntlets, but a thick raffia ribbon Chris bought for something else was perfect.

3) If you’re dressing as a female superhero, ratchet your modesty way down and embrace your body for what it is: The first thing my mom said when she saw the movie poster of Gamora was, “Well, that’s skimpy.” Thanks for the encouragement, Mom. The funny thing is that Gamora is way more covered up than the large majority of female superheroes, including Wonder Woman, Power Girl (with her notorious “boob window”), Huntress, and even the 1970s version of Gamora. As Chris said, “At least Gamora has pants.” Even the female superheroes who aren’t showing a lot of skin, like Black Widow and Rogue from the X-Men, wear ridiculously tight clothing. As a pretty modest person who has held the opinion that “leggings are not pants” for a long time, this was very new for me. In addition, my body shape has not even a passing resemblance to Zoe Saldana’s, who played Gamora in the movie. But despite my body image woes, once I put the final outfit on, my self-consciousness started slipping away. As I saw some cosplayers that weren’t even close to the original character’s body type, being in costume is a chance to ignore the normal rules of society about what you should or shouldn’t wear.

4) If you can’t make it, fake it: I do not sew. My mom is an excellent seamstress – she made all of my Halloween costumes – but I never bothered learning from her. As Gamora’s costume required a ton of sewing, I looked for off-the-rack pieces online that I could modify to look somewhat like the original costume. I did the same thing for Rocket’s jumpsuit – I bought orange toddler pajamas instead of sewing them. This may also be useful if the needed material is particularly difficult to work with. Both spandex and faux leather – common superhero materials – are supposed to be very difficult to sew well.

5) Give yourself plenty of time to get your necessary supplies: Unfortunately, because I didn’t sew, I was at the mercy of online retailers. Despite ordering with plenty of advance notice, I didn’t receive two out of the three key pieces for my costume until four days before the convention. Similarly, don’t count on your local stores having what you need. I planned on buying green lipstick from our local costume store. I found out they were out two days before the con, too late to buy it on Amazon unless I wanted to spend an absurd amount on shipping.

6) Be prepared to spend more time and money than expected: Cosplaying takes a lot of resources, especially if you’re investing in it for the first time. Chris said, “It’s like cooking a meal, but you have to buy all of the pots, too.” But there are some ways to cut the cost, including recycled cardboard where possible, shopping thrift stores (although I find this more useful for generic costumes than specific characters) and using craft and fabric store coupons.

7) Recognize that you will be going to your local craft store at least twice as many times as you expected: As my father-in-law says, “No project is complete without at least three trips to Home Depot.” The same goes for the craft or fabric store and cosplay, although it may include the hardware store as well, depending on your costume. If you think you have everything with one trip, it’s a guarantee you don’t.

8) Heavily invest in craft foam: A lot of cosplay requires heavy-duty construction. While cardboard may work for some of it, craft foam is surprisingly versatile. It’s flexible, sturdy and easy to measure and cut. Even if your costume mainly involves sewing, you probably need accessories, which craft foam will often work for in a pinch.

9) Become best friends with your low-temp glue gun: Glue guns are to cosplay what duct tape is to home repair. I got more use out of the glue gun than I have since I was obsessed with making Pom-Pom animals in third grade. Low-temp is important for two reasons. One, you will burn yourself, multiple times. Low-temp burns hurt, but can usually be dealt with by shaking your finger vigorously and peeling off the glue afterwards. In contrast, high-temp glue will give you a nasty second-degree burn. I still have a blister on my middle finger when I hit the switch that goes from high to low temp on the glue gun. The other reason to use low-temp is that high-temp melts craft foam and similar materials like pipe insulation.

10) Buy the right tools for the job: I originally tried to use a photo glue stick to adhere the glitter that I planned to use to mimic Gamora’s shiny blue, pixelated fabric. Within a day, all of the glitter came off, and as the herpes of craft supplies, got lot lots of places it wasn’t supposed to be. I went back to Michaels and purchased glue specifically for adhering glitter to fabric, which worked much better.

11) Try on your costume early, so you have plenty of time to fix it: My original design for Sprout’s costume didn’t fit over his head. Much of the Velcro I attached to my bodysuit and vest came unglued when I put the costume on and the fabric stretched out. Chris freaked out at 11 pm on Saturday night when he put his costume on and it revealed large unpainted spots. Unless you have a full dressmakers mannequin (and even then), your costume is going to look and act much differently on the hanger or table than it does on you.

12) Acclimate your kid to both the idea of costumes and the actual costumes themselves: This may not be a problem for older kids, but at two, Sprout didn’t remember his Halloween costume at all. We had to reintroduce the idea that we could dress up as other people, but still be ourselves. “Just a costume” was repeated a number of times in our household the week before the Con. We explained over and over that daddy would be dressed up like a tree, mommy like a green lady, and Sprout as a raccoon. But even if kids know what a costume is, they may still be surprised or frightened if their parents are in a costume or makeup that makes them look dramatically different. To protect against that, we introduced the various pieces of the costumes over time. We let him wear his ears and tail around the house. I tried on my wig in front of him not long after I received it, which he declared was “Big hair!” While he first went “No no no no,” he became more intrigued by it as the two weeks went on. Similarly, I applied the full green face paint in front of him a few days before so he knew what I looked like in it. Seeing me in it also made him much more amenable to it when we needed to apply it for his raccoon eyes. Lastly, Chris showed him the full Groot costume several times before wearing it in front of him because that thing could give you nightmares. Although Sprout’s initial reaction was similar to the wig, he eventually warmed to it. When the day finally came, he was fine with all of the makeup and costumes, in part I think because we did so much preparation.

13) Be flexible, especially with kid(s): My only concern day-of was that Sprout would refuse to put on his armor, which I spent a long time working on. While he actually was fine with the armor, he did completely refuse to do something else. We signed him up for the kids’ costume contest, in the under-11 category. I figured his charm offensive and cuteness would out balance any lack of screen accuracy. But when we reached the Ballroom, he took one peek in and said, “No. No no no no no” and shook his head. With the wait for pre-judging being a hour and him without a nap, we didn’t force the issue.

14) If you have elaborate costumes, especially of well-known characters, expect to get some (or a lot, depending on the con) of attention: As I mentioned, my goal was not be embarrassed. As it turned out, we were downright popular. We had people ask for our photo at least 30 times or more. People would exclaim, “Groot!” or ask Chris, “Who are you?” so they could get the “I am Groot!” response. But my favorite was the little boy who caught me just before I was going to get changed. He yelled “Gamora! She’s my favorite.” He the turned to Sprout and said, “You’re lucky. Your mom can kick anyone’s butt in the whole galaxy.” Bless you, child.

15) Have fun!

Hidden Gems on my Son’s Bookshelf

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Sprout has a lot of books – a consequence of being part of a family of avid readers and a grandchild of a retired teacher. While some are classics, some make us question our mental health, and others are just plain weird, there are a few that are both not particularly well-known and absolutely wonderful. They made their way onto his bookshelf in a variety of ways: received as gifts, picked up second-hand, and discovered at book festivals. They have both beautiful illustrations and lyrical text.

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Refugees and Other Families Looking for a Better Life

Trigger Warnings: Child death and disappearance, homelessness, refugees

If you’re regularly on social media or watch TV news, you’ve seen The Picture. The photograph of Aylan Kurdi, the Syrian toddler who drowned while his family was trying to escape their homeland’s civil war. Of course, it was undeniably tragic.

While I normally try to keep up on the news, I avoided that photo at every turn, averting my eyes when it came up in my Facebook or Twitter feeds. It certainly wasn’t because I don’t care about the plight of the Syrian people – I’ve signed many a petition demanding the US Do Something and am a religious contributor to Oxfam’s work.

No, it’s because I care too much.

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An Open Letter to Parenting Experts

I believe in being positive, especially as a parent, but sometimes I get frustrated. I get angry when people are being oppressed, when someone is reinforcing prejudicial societal patterns, or when people are putting others in unnecessary pain. These Open Letters are either to the people making me mad or those suffering.

Dear writers of parenting books and articles,

I have a bit of unsolicited advice. You’ve given us so much over the years that it seems time to give a little back.

1) Don’t over-promise unrealistic results. Look, we know there’s lot of competition on the parenting advice shelf. In the age of Twitter, you have to catch their eye right away. Nonetheless, it’s nothing but sheer cruelty to guarantee “Teach your baby to sleep (in just seven days)” or “How to eliminate tantrums and raise a patient, respectful and cooperative one to four year old.” While those claims are clearly absurd to people with two brain cells available to rub together, parents that have been waking up multiple times a night for more than a year or are trying to tolerate whiny kids don’t even have that minimum available. (I say this as a victim of the former situation.) Giving false hope is just mean.

2) Don’t shame parents when your tactics don’t work. When you claim your advice will work for all kids, you imply that if it doesn’t work, it’s the parent’s fault. For example, a number of books and articles emphasize how very important it is that your infant both sleep exclusively on their backs by themselves as well sleep through the night for a specific period of time. But there’s a percentage of kids who will never do that! Good luck explaining “but the books says you have to sleep!” to them.

3) Acknowledge yours may not be the only solution. Everyone knows different tactics work for different kids, even in the same family. So of course, a family may need to draw on a whole toolbox of ideas, not just the ones in a single book. But too often, you allude – or even occasionally state outright – that using other methods makes the reader a Bad Mother.

4) Don’t assume everyone has a Leave It to Beaver middle-class nuclear family. Increasing numbers of families have diverse structures, with single parents raising kids on their own, grandparents helping out, same-sex couples raising kids, and many more combinations. Parents may have high or very low incomes. The primary caregiver may be a mother or father or not even a biological parent at all. Yet you often give advice that’s only helpful, applicable or realistic for a small portion of the population. You recommend absurd amounts of unnecessary baby gear, assume a broad variety of available childcare options (FYI, nannies and au pairs are not affordable for most families), assume the mom will be doing most of the work, and give advice only helpful to parents with 9 to 5 schedules. This structure makes the rest of us feel like we don’t matter or even exist.

5) Don’t recommend – nay, require – contradictory actions in the same book. My “favorite” example is from the tome of pregnant lady-shaming, What to Expect When You’re Expecting. The authors recommend to eat locally as much as possible. Then just a few pages later, the same book recommends pregnant women eat 4 servings of fruit a day, especially mangos. Unless you actually live in South America, that’s ridiculous. Some good copy editing will save a lot of parents some head-banging, and not of the heavy-metal kind.

6) Don’t use the word “should” to refer to a child’s behavior unless you’re actually referring to a developmental milestone. Modern-day parents get just a tiny bit obsessive about their kids hitting their milestones. These days the only things we can turn to to know if our kid is “normal” is other parents, our pediatrician, or parenting books. While there are certain ones that it’s important to meet, it really muddies the waters when parenting books just make up new ones. For example, there’s no set standard for when your kid must sleep through the night. There are some adults who don’t sleep through the night!

7) Never use the term “mother’s intuition.” Most moms arrive home and think, “What the hell do I do now?” The sole extent of my “inborn knowledge” was “Oh crap, my baby is crying!” I knew I should do something to calm him, but what I should do eluded me. Suggesting that I should have some magical ability to know what to do made me even more insecure. If parenting intuition exists, it’s from the slow, beautiful process of learning to know a child’s personality and unique traits. It’s much more helpful to reassure new parents that it will get easier over time as they get to know their child.

Now all of this might make me sound rather, well, motherly. But I’m pretty sure you can handle it. After all, you’ve given plenty of “shoulds” and “should-nots” to us.

Ridiculous Moments in Parenting: Last Week Edition

Last week, I wasn’t even at home and yet the shenanigans were even more absurd than usual. Because I was at a work conference all week, Chris had to play stay-at-home single parent to a two-year-old, an exceptionally challenging job. Here were just a few of the ridiculous things that happened.

– Sprout declaring that Kraft macaroni and cheese was “delicious,” a complement much higher than that he usually bestows on any food: This is despite the fact that Chris was a professional cook in a very expensive restaurant before leaving to stay home. Now, Sprout eats way more vegetables than the average toddler (hurray!), but the fact that Kraft Mac and Cheese was the height of culinary prowess according to him was rather horrifying and funny. No accounting for taste.

– Doing the Hokey Pokey by myself in a hotel room: Keeping the attention of a toddler over FaceTime is challenging at best. To try to keep Sprout from wandering off, I started listing off songs he might want me to sing. After asking about “The Itsy-Bitsy Spider,” “10 Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed,” and “House at Pooh Corner,” I finally scored with the Hokey Pokey. Which led to me sticking my right foot in and right foot out and turning all about by myself next to my hotel bed and holding out an iPhone trying not to trip.

– Spout taking a giant bite out of a hat: Chris is a big Green Bay Packers fan, so one of our baby shower gifts was a kid-sized cheese hat. Chris happened to find it in Sprout’s closet and showed it to him, commenting “This is a cheese hat.” Sprout replied, “Cheese hat?” and then “chomp.” He managed to get a good chunk out of it before Chris could wrest it away from him and explain it was “play cheese!”

– Experiencing our first hysterically funny toddler tantrum: The other day, Sprout was really upset for no apparent reason. The answer to every question we asked was “no.” The epitome was him running in place like he was in the world’s worst gym class, flailing his arms like a rabid chicken. I always thought that parents taking photos of their kids crying was kind of mean, but I finally understood as I tried to contain my laughter.

– Chasing after a toddler mid-puke holding out a Tupperware container: For some reason, Sprout often gets sick when I go out of town. Luckily for Chris, he waited until the day after I got back to do so this time. Fortunately for everyone, the bout only lasted three hours and he was fine by the afternoon.

– Going on a bicycle ride by myself on my own bike: While this used to be an extremely common occurrence, it definitely felt like a personal accomplishment in the same sense that Beth Woolsey of Five Kids is a Lot of Kids describes being able to clip her nails. I ride back and forth to the Metro every day, but that’s on clunky, heavy Capital Bikeshare bikes. When I do have the luxury of using my own well-loved Bianchi hybrid, it’s almost always dragging an extra 50 pounds between the trailer and the growing toddler. Being able to go on a ride and worry about no one else besides myself was truly glorious, especially because I rode through the well-shaded Rock Creek Park.

– Bike grease making its way onto my child’s face and very most likely, inside his mouth: Later the same day, we took a very short ride to our little downtown area. As I was putting my bike away, Sprout started running his fingers over the chain, despite my protests. Then, because he’s teething his molars in and the simple fact that he’s two, he promptly put his hand in his mouth. (At least I’m assuming he did – I didn’t actually see it, but he did have grease on the side of his mouth.) As I know bike grease is definitely not non-toxic, that was a super awesome parenting fail. Hopefully, he won’t be puking again tomorrow.

What were some of the most ridiculous things that happened to you this week?

Songs to Grow Up With: Kids’ Music for Little Radicals

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Listening to music can be a radical act. And I don’t mean in the 2112 or Footloose “music is evil” type of way. But more that the type of music we listen to is not only a reflection of our tastes and perspectives but an influence on them.

Nowhere is this more true than for kids, who either end up listening to music developed for their specific age group or are subjected to their parents’ musical tastes. While some kids music is absolutely inane, it doesn’t have to be. Without needing to go full-on Defiance of Anthropomorphic Sea Mammals (from Portlandia), here are a few songs that may help inspire your kids to be activists or at least anti-authoritarian. Not all of these were originally for kids – many of them are straight-up folk songs – but I think they all have a kid appeal.

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Ocean City, MD: Fun and Sun with a Toddler and Grandparents

As a kid, I adored the ticky-tacky tourist trap that was and is Lake George Village. Nestled in the foothills of the Adirondacks, I loved everything from its elaborate mini-golf courses to its flashing arcades. So of course, I love Ocean City, Maryland, which is much like Lake George except bigger and more popular with an actual beach to boot. We had hoped to camp at nearby Assateague National Park, but when realized the entire season was booked up back in May, I joked to my mom about my parents taking us to Ocean City. Much to my pleasant surprise, she took me up on my suggestion, leading us to all head out to Ocean City this past weekend. As this was Sprout’s first time, he had a variety of reactions, some of which were more unpredictable than others.

Beach and hotels of Ocean City

What Sprout Liked that I Exected Him to Like

Carnival rides: After our experience at the County Fair, I fully expected him to enjoy the even bigger Ferris wheel at the end of the boardwalk. Unfortunately, it turned out that the view wasn’t as good than at the Fair. At night, the dark swallowed the grandeur of the ocean. Nonetheless, both it and the double-decker Merry Go Round were big hits. It’s amazing how Sprout’s reactions to rides have evolved, from the seemingly impassive reception at Disney to the engaged sense of wonder now. While his facial expressions haven’t really changed much, the subtle differences are obvious.

Arcade games: Chris and I introduced Sprout to a fundamental part of our childhoods that had little educational or social benefit – video game arcades! While he liked the percussion adaptation of Dance Dance Revolution, the big hit was skeeball. As Chris and I played in our own lanes, my mom rolled the balls with Sprout hand-over-hand and scored over 100 points! Between the three of us, we had enough tickets to buy a little googly-eyed ring for him, which he clutched the rest of the day. Finding games that he would like brought back some of my childhood joy playing video games, especially since so many of them are just glorified slot machines now.

Ice cream: Okay, this was a gimme.

Spending time with his grandparents: A bit of a gimme too, but I love the relationship they have. My grandparents lived far away from me in a time before FaceTime and we always had to visit them, not the other way around. I really appreciate that my parents want to have a solid bond with him and are willing to put in the time to do so. (This is true of Chris’s parents as well.)

Things I Expected Sprout to Like But He Didn’t

Going in the ocean: Sprout didn’t mind standing on the very edge and allowing the waves to occasionally reach his toes, but he responded “Nope!” every time I asked him if he wanted to go further. He found the feeling of the ground washing away beneath his feet quite disconcerting. He expressed a clear interest in watching the waves and placing shells in the surf to wash away, but was intimidated by the size and power of the waves. (In some ways, it wasn’t all that different from the cows at the County Fair – better at a distance.) I hope that as he gets bigger, he learns to appreciate it, as I adore the power of diving into the crashing waves like a clumsy dolphin.

Building sand castles: I was gung-ho on sand castle building, with a whole giant bag filled with toys. As soon as we sat down on the beach, I started filling the molds with wet sand and flipping them over to create an elaborate castle. But Sprout was totally uninterested in helping. Instead, he just wanted to dump water all over my creations, resulting in them looking less like medieval buildings and more like Gaudi’s architecture. As he wasn’t willing to get the water himself, he would request “More water?” in his little voice, sending myself, Chris, or my dad to go retrieve another bucketful from the ocean. We spent a lot of time trudging the few feet needed to get yet another refill.

Flying kites: Sprout liked watching people fly kites – he pointed out every parasailer we saw (“big kites”). But again, participation wasn’t high on his list. I can’t blame him on this one though. While I envisioned bright kites high up above the ocean, our efforts were much more Charlie Brown than anything else. Both my mom and I had kites that were supposed to be easy to fly, but we found impossible to keep up in the air. As long as I was running, mine stayed up, but running on the beach gets very tiring very quickly. My legs giving out put an end to our kite-flying dreams.

Things I Didn’t Even Consider Before the Trip that Sprout Enjoyed

The Year-Round Christmas Store: These were staples of Lake George Village and pretty much every tourist-trap type place, but I never expected to go to one in Ocean City. (Why bother?) But when we were waiting for more than a half-hour to be seated for dinner, it was an awesome diversion. Sprout piped up “Big Santa!” every time he saw the giant Santa outside and named every single type of vehicle and animal ornament he saw. I had to carry him to prevent his tiny fingers from wrecking havoc, but that was a small price for an extended period of entertainment.

The hotel pool: I’ve always thought pools at ocean resorts were rather redundant. If you have an ocean, why would you ever go in the pool? But when you’re afraid of actually going in the ocean (see above), the pool is a pretty good alternative. Because my parents used their credit card points, we stayed in a way swankier hotel than either Chris and I or normally my parents could afford. It had a rocking kiddie pool, complete with two slides, a mini-lazy river, and squirting fountains. It was the perfect thing to allow Sprout to go in the water without the scariness of the waves themselves.

Ocean City pier

For a more amusing take on beach vacations with 100% more pie charts, check out Mommy Shorts’ Is the Beach Worth It?

What’s your best and worse experiences bringing kids to the beach?

Ferris Wheels and Cherry Tomatoes: The Montgomery County Fair

Giant cows, sheep in coats, neon Ferris wheels, huge wheels of cheese, racing pigs and deep fried everything – just a few of the wonders found at our local county fair. Except for the pig races, which we sadly missed, we experienced all of these last Sunday at the Montgomery County Agricultural Fair. But the thing I cared about the most was one little ribbon in one little pavilion on a plate full of cherry tomatoes. To be precise, my cherry tomatoes.

I’ve always loved county fairs. We frequently attended the Saratoga County Fair when I was a kid, home of many animal exhibits and at least one absolutely terror-inducing ride that clearly didn’t meet any reasonable level of safety standards. When we moved to Montgomery County, which has an entire agricultural reserve, I knew it would have a worthwhile fair. With three years of gardening experience, I thought it would be fun to enter my tomatoes in the fair last year, but it directly overlapped with our trip to Disney World. So I held off until this year.

While I do think of them as “my tomatoes,” gardening is really a family affair. We picked cherry tomatoes because it’s the one crop that we always have plenty to spare. This year, I was particularly proud of them because I raised the plants from seed I had saved, so they were fully mine. But they would have died long ago without Chris’s regular watering and pruning. Even Sprout helps out, using his little can to water (mainly his shoes) and picking red tomatoes (that usually go from the branch right into his mouth). I wasn’t able to pick the tomatoes for the fair myself without a small person trying to steal half of them, so Chris did it for me and even dropped them off for judging. It was the perfect job to tap his fine dining training – as he said, “I’m actually really good at small, repetive motions to make things look just perfect.”

Table of tomatoes

So walking up to the vegetable table at the Farm and Garden and Flowers Department was exciting for everyone. Spout was already thrilled that we got to ride a school bus from the parking lot, so this was yet another amazing thing of the day. I stopped breathing as I looked for our plate. First place was literally a five dollar prize that they probably haven’t increased since 1950, but it was the pride of it that mattered.

Our entry turned out to be pretty easy to find because it was the only one with the stems still on the tomatoes. Although person accepting the entries recommended to Chris remove them, but he was worried about bruising one in the process. While none of the stems fell off – which would have disqualified us – they were a little wilted, which detracted from the tomatoes’ deep red just a bit.

Awardwinning tomatoes

All of that considered, we received – an honorable mention ribbon. But hey, it was something! I was a little disappointed that we didn’t place in the top three or even five, but it was a solid showing for the first year participating.

It made me feel validated as a gardener. Even though I’ve grown pounds upon pounds of food for my family and raised enough seedlings to give away to others, this outside recognition of my skill was special. It felt like entering an exclusive – albeit quirky – club. It was a similar feeling to the first time my writing was published in print. Like the connection I feel to my neighborhood while gardening, it was the sense of contributing to the history and larger whole of the county’s Agriculture Reserve. As someone relatively new to gardening in the grand scheme of things, it also reminded me of how far I’ve come. Only four years ago, my neighbor was betting to her friend against my garden being successful. She’d be so proud to see my ribbon now.

We celebrated our recognition by looking at all of the animal exhibits. Many of the animals at the Fair are owned by 4H students, who raise them as projects. Sprout’s favorites were definitely the chickens and bunnies – they’re more his size and less overwhelming than the cattle.

From there, we abandoned all pretense of sustainability or “local food” and headed to the Carnival. Filling up on fried chicken on a stick, fried green tomatoes, mutant-large corn on the cob, and watermelon, we tried to prevent get-away attempts from an excited small child. Fortunately for him, the next stop was a Funhouse in the style of the one in Grease. Starting with the rickety stairs to the slide at the end, he ran through with a smile.

Ferris Wheel

We ended our night with the county fair classic – the Ferris Wheel. I have a necklace with a picture of an old-fashioned Ferris Wheel on it, which I’ve been telling Sprout about for months. After 20 minutes of waiting, we stepped into the car. As the wheel rotated, it lifted us up high above the fairgrounds, each step up revealing a little more landscape. The other rides glowed blue, red, and green, lines and curves of neon. The exhibits we had been at earlier retreated in the distance, dark as the animals started to bed down. The pop music from the rides and the chattering of the crowds lessened to a low background accompaniment. Once in a while, I would glance over at Sprout, who was in Chris’s lap across from me. His eyes were wide, his mouth parted just slightly, not a smile, but his signature look of concentration. He just watched, as he always does.

Viewfrom Ferris Wheel

And tonight, as all nights, he was watching Chris and I. He was watching our pride in our handiwork, just as he watched and helped us tend the plants. He watched our participation in the larger community, engaging with the 4H students. He watched as we enjoyed simple pleasures like the Funhouse and Ferris Wheel. While I rarely do things just to “be an example,” I hope that my whole life is one, on that night and all of them.

Night Magic: Aquarium by Imagination Stage

Lemons hung from an arch became a sun gate. A billowing blue sheet made silky ocean waves. Plastic streamers attached to a wooden pole transformed into a jellyfish. All of these images captivated the small children sitting around the “stage” of Imagination Stage’s show Acquarium, including my son.

Imagination Stage has been on my “to do” list with Sprout for a while, but the right opportunity didn’t come up until my friend emailed me two weeks ago. While my friends don’t have kids yet, their cousins were visiting from France with their 3 and 5 year old children. It seemed like the ideal opportunity.

We met them at the theater, located in downtown Bethesda. While it doesn’t have its own parking, it’s close to several garages and is less than a mile from the Metro. The theater has a cute alleyway next to it, decorated with huge multi-colored balls and metal swirls. It was perfect for Sprout to run up and down while we waited. They also had what looked like a really nice store, but it wasn’t open before the show.

Inside, the theater was a large, open floor space with some seating on risers beyond it. However, nearly all of the children and their parents were gathered around the performance space. Because we came in a little late, we were placed to the side, but the performers played to the entire audience as much as possible.

Like most theater for very little ones, there wasn’t much of a plot, but it was so enchanting that it didn’t matter. The story was a series of vignettes by the two main characters, Jack and Calypso, who were dressed like they were in a storybook version of Gilligan’s Island. It followed their journey through a full day to reach the fabled land of Aquarium, under the sea. After the “sun” rose, flowers needed to be planted in the garden, sheep needed to be herded, and the stars needed to come out.

Each of these different sequences was very interactive, helping engage even the antsiest of kids. Each child received a lemon and gave it to one character to hang on the arch. An adult helper from the audience handed out pieces of seaweed that magically bloomed into flowers with a pull on a piece of ribbon. The actors invited the children up to “rake” a piece of fake turf and “plant” their flowers under it. The cast managed the children beautifully, making it seem not like they were giving back their props but participating in the story. As far as I could tell, there was not a single meltdown, a huge accomplishment for this age group.

Throughout the performance, these interactive pieces were accompanied by lyrical monologues, goofy banter, and otherworldly props. While there were some silly jokes – mostly bad puns – much of the script was lovely, surreal free verse. It complemented the captivating imagery. I think the combination of the two would work even for children who are mostly non-verbal, as my friends’ nephews enjoyed it and they don’t even speak English.

The last two sequences were particularly enchanting. At “night,” the lead actress walked slowly around the edge of the crowd, holding a wheel with cut-outs, the lights down low. The reflective wheel scattered the spotlights, creating shimmering, twinkling stars on the floor and wall. As she walked and spun, she recited a poem that reminded me of some of the best children’s literature. Even I was mesmerized. While I’m usually looking at Sprout’s reaction, I just enjoyed the experience of wonder.

The show culminated in the final scene where they finally reached the oceanic Aquarium. The actors spread out a huge blue sheet across the entire floor, with all of the children and adults invited to take an edge and shake their hands up and down like the old parachute game. The actors tossed silver fish puppets onto the bouncing waves, making them dance and fly up in the air. Softly glowing blue lights and quiet music enhanced the underwater feel. When the lights finally came up, we sighed and blinked, emerging from a place of magic.

The only possible complaint I had is that the floor there is pretty hard, especially when a child insists on sitting on your lap for much of the performance. But that’s just a consequence of getting old, I suppose.

While we actually caught the last show of Aquarium, Imagination Stage regularly does shows throughout the year, including shows for very young children. It was a wonderful experience for the children and adults alike and I look forward to bringing Sprout to another show in the future.

Dance Like Everyone is Watching

Content note: Transphobia

She shook her body to the Latin music played by the band on stage, wearing a tight floral dress cut up to the middle of her thighs. At the end of each song, she’d cross her legs and do a little curtsy or hand wave to the audience. She rejected the idea of dancing as if no one was watching – she knew everyone was watching and wanted it, invited it, reveled in it. But she was no typical beauty. Her arms and legs were highly muscled, her face lean and sharp, her chest flat, her hips not curvy at all. It seemed like either she was a trans woman or just had very masculine features. But while her body didn’t meet society’s standards of feminine, she didn’t seem to care – she was incredibly proud of it anyway.

Seeing her at my town’s weekly music night last Friday, I had conflicted feelings. Much to my surprise and disappointment, I felt disgust first. Not over her body, but over the fact that she was showing it off so flagrantly. People who purposely draw attention to themselves in public places, especially by dancing, rankle me. Their overwhelming confidence and feeling of entitlement to everyone’s attention is everything I don’t have, but wish I did. (Penny B, a character from the comic series Phonogram is the epitome of this phenomena.)

Watching this woman, what felt particularly, illogically, galling was that she acted that way even though society has decided people like her aren’t worthy of adoration. I kept thinking, “Doesn’t she know no one came here to see her?” Until I realized: “Of course she does. But she’s going to make them watch anyway.” She had decided to be a self-styled rock star regardless of what anyone thought.

And that insight made me see that she wasn’t delusional or desperate for attention – she was staggeringly brave. Brave for not only being herself in a highly public place, but being it loudly and as prominently as absolutely possible. Brave in a way I can’t imagine, as someone far more privileged than her. Her performance was a huge middle finger in the face of anyone who was prejudiced against her.

Including me, in a way. It’s so easy to be an ally on social media, where everyone is at a remove. To reblog or retweet something about LGTB rights or body image acceptance that sounds awesome, but you haven’t really emotionally processed. Stuff about acceptance that maybe you don’t even believe about yourself. It’s another thing entirely when an actual person is there in the flesh, throwing ideas of what you should and shouldn’t do, what is appropriate and not, back in your face. And I flinched, at least internally. I didn’t know how to process a person who challenged so many deeply engrained assumptions, so I fell back on rejection. I knew it was the wrong reaction and yet it was hard to overcome.

While it was tough for me to personally face, this is especially why I was glad this woman was out there, dancing in as public a way as possible. Not to teach my privileged ass a lesson, but to be a real life role model for the people surrounding her in a way I can’t be. In particular, most of the other people dancing were children. As I mentioned in my post about white privilege, it’s great if Sprout is exposed to media that has diverse casts, but it’s far more powerful to know diverse people in real life. Maybe her dancing gave hope to a trans kid who is trying to figure things out, encouraged a kid struggling with body image issues, or normalized people outside of traditional gender appearances for other kids just a little bit more. Seeing the crowd’s reaction was also beautiful in how it exemplified how much has changed in a short period of time, even though there’s still a long way to go. Unlike in the recent past or even other locations, no one took their children away or appeared to see her as a threat to them. No one shamed her for what she was doing, although there were some awkward glances. I hope that minimum of tolerance from the parents blooms in their children to full acceptance.

The joy of her performance was eventually infectious. While I didn’t boogie down – Sprout was content to stand on the side and watch – I was glad to be part of her audience in the end.