Know Your Audience

That's a phrase I heard a lot while studying theatre. Know your audience. In business terms, it's said 'know your market'. It means the same thing. Whatever you're doing in your life, be aware of who you're doing it for. (or, if you're one of my picky-English-grammar audience members, 'be aware for whom you're doing it') Not that you have to adapt what you're doing to please your audience, just that it's a good idea keeping them in the back of your mind. If nothing else, it gives you an edge of insight, and can keep you one step ahead of the game.

This philosophy has come to light again lately in my life. The first instance was entirely my own fault. I had this brilliant idea to host an Easter kids' party this year, and, well, to be honest, I let it get a bit out of hand. What I'd intended to be a few friends having fun with eggs has morphed into 16 children (most of them aged 3-4) and their parents descending on our tiny little house. I'm not complaining .... I think it will be a blast and I'm absolutely looking forward to it. I just got carried away with my ideas. Oh yes, I'd already planned fun food, artsy-craftsy decorating activities, an Easter egg hunt, paper mache-ing homemade baskets for the kids all myself, etc. And even when I saw what the numbers were turning out to be, I was still calmly excited for all of it.

Then I started paper mache-ing. I thought I'd get at least the majority, if not ALL of it done while Big Chief was watching a football/soccer match. That was last weekend. It took me three and a half hours to get A QUARTER of it done. They looked really good, but seriously. 14 hours of paper mache was not what I had in mind when planning a 'fun' Easter kids' party.

That's when it dawned on me. It's a kids' party. Kids. You know, those creatures who find beauty in a ripped straw and eat their own boogers. I'm covering myself in flour-y glue and shredded newspaper in a quest for stunning perfection for them? They're going to see these baskets, smash them to a pulp trying to get the candy out, probably not even notice them in the first place, and within a few days, their parents will throw them away anyway. (be honest, guys, you know you will!) Why kill myself?

So I came up with a faster, easier, and definitely less-perfect way to finish the project in a fraction of the time. And I enjoyed the rustic result. That's right. They're not sloppy or amateur, they're rustic. The kids will be equally happy with these inferior baskets as they would have with my super-duper impressive ones, so I might as well make Life easier. Once I remembered my audience, I was able to enjoy the process more.

The second reminder has been in the guise of LC's 'shortfalls.' Which aren't actually shortfalls to other people. Sort of a 'shortfalls are in the eye of the beholder' thing. Want to know what he can't do? He can't swim. Or ride a bike. And, my gosh, he IS nearly four years old. And when I say he can't ride a bike, I mean he can't even pedal a tricycle. Clearly, he's a major loser when it comes to physical development.

That's what we're made to feel here in Holland, anyway. These kids come out of the womb doing the butterfly stroke and qualifying for the final trials of the Tour de France. I remember at his two-year check-up, the doctor asking if he could ride a bike. When I replied 'no' (and obviously looked confused at the question), she took my confusion as worry and tried to casually brush it aside by saying 'Well, never mind. There's still time.' But I could tell she was disappointed. Are you kidding me? He'd just turned TWO! But this is a big thing here. I'm sure he probably could ride a bike now if he deemed it worthy of his time. He throws himself around a playground like kids twice his age (check out the third picture on this post for proof) and has freakishly good hand-eye coordination when we play with balloons. He just doesn't WANT to ride his bike. And as for the swimming, it's only the deep end of the pool that terrifies him. Put him in the shallow end, and he'll do anything asked .... and plenty of things not asked. But deeper water? Forget it. He won't even walk by that side of the pool.

And you know what? I'm fine with that. My kid doesn't want to be in water above his neck? Ok! He wants to stay where he knows he has control? Hell, yeah! I love not having to worry that my headstrong child is making a mad dash for an Ocean of Death at every available opportunity. A little fear of water is a blessing, as far as I'm concerned.

But here in ClogLand, nearly-4-year-olds who can't swim and/or ride bikes are severely stunted. Lots of them can even ride bikes without the training wheels. I don't think I learned that until I was 6 and had my pike Huffy bike. It's all a matter of perception. In the States, LC would probably be normal. Here, he may very well be considered a physical disaster. We just got his appt for his next check up (not until June) so I guess we'll find out then just how screwed up he is.

Until then, I will sit back, relax, and remember to know my audience. Kids expect nothing, and the Dutch expect a lot. I'll try to expect nothing and be just happy with what shows up.