Well, it’s all over. Just like Baryshinokov, another brilliant dance career is finished. My Mother’s Day beating is done.
I started the weekend by cleaning out my refrigerator and freezer on Saturday morning. I don’t mean just throwing out some bad leftovers, I mean taking out each shelf and scrubbing it down from top to bottom. I figured while I was signing up for beatings for the weekend, I might as well throw in all the things I dread the most.
I am embarrassed to even tell y’all how gross my refrigerator was. It looked like a science experiment gone bad. I had spilled coffee grounds on the bottom of my freezer that were stuck to a substance that I couldn’t even identify. I have been living in freezer denial for a long time, not wanting to face the freezer yuckness head on, but I knew it was time to pay the freezer piper, or whatever.
I didn’t take before photos because I knew y’all would judge me. You say you wouldn’t, but you would. YOU WOULD. It’s okay. I’d judge me, too.
The refrigerator
The freezer
Please note the cleanliness. Also note the two major food groups: Tater Tots and Velveeta
An organic, all natural diet is of utmost importance around here.
After spending the better part of the day cleaning the fridge, it was time for the dress rehearsal for Caroline’s recital. Nevermind that some good friends had invited us to spend a relaxing day at the lake, I had to get Caroline all dressed and made up so that she could go practice her elaborate dance routine because really, if the three year olds didn’t get the opportunity to practice, the artistic integrity of the routine could be completely compromised. How are you going to pick your nose and daydream under the bright lights of the big stage if you haven’t had an opportunity to practice?
The dress rehearsal went fairly well, with the exception of some future Christina Aguilera wannabe who kept getting in front of Caroline and way overexaggerating the moves. Back off honey, it’s not Star Search.
Sunday morning we went to church and then headed home to rest up for the recital. Because I am in total denial over the fact that Caroline never sleeps during the day anymore, I attempted to get her to take a nap before the recital, which proved to be more draining than trying to identify the unknown substance that was in the bottom of my freezer.
Finally, it was time to do hair and makeup and head to the auditorium. Here she is in the car on the way there. Can y’all sense the joy?
The dance studio had assured us that the younger students would perform first so the kids wouldn’t get too tired waiting to perform. It was a big, fat lie. After I got Caroline settled with her class, I went to meet P in the auditorium where he pointed out in the program that Caroline would be performing 12th out of 24 performances.
Those dance teachers are dirty liars.
And to add to the enjoyment, the air conditioning was out in the building. There is nothing quite as lovely as spending Mother’s Day in a hot auditorium surrounded by the sweat of hundreds of strangers. All I could think about was how hot I was and wonder if Caroline’s red lipstick and eyebrow pencil were running down her face.
The teachers kept stressing the importance of the makeup, because otherwise the kids would just look tired on stage. They’re 3, how tired can they look?
Finally, she came out on stage. She did most of her moves with a few periods of rest to daydream and check out the lights on the stage, but she looked so cute, and after it was over even stayed on stage a few minutes longer than the rest of the class to soak up the glory. I’d love to have it on video, but since they don’t allow video cameras the only way that’s possible is if I shell out $30.00 for a DVD.
The dance recital market is just one huge racket.
I did get to video the dress rehearsal, so at least that’s something. And it’s free. And it’s just my daughter (well, and Christina Aguilera), not 150 other kids that I don’t know and will most likely never see again.
After the performance, I went downstairs to pick her up and hugged her and told her how great she did and how proud I was of her. She took all of that information in and told me, “Mama, you need to quit talking now.”
One recital and she turns into a diva.
As we walked to the car, Bops was carrying her and told her she did a great job. She replied, “I know, Bops. I beat all those other kids.”
Which is why next year, we’re playing soccer.