(not so) Tiny dancers

June 20, 2011


I spent many, many hours sitting in a dance studio this year. All three of my kids took dance this year: Belly in Ballet 2/3, Jilly in Beginner Ballet and even D who took an all-boys’ hip-hop class.


Sunday there were two recitals. And I got to help get them dress up to look like this:

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Be still my heart—who are these big kids?

The girls were in both shows, D was only in the matinee though he danced twice. There were technical difficulties in his first performance that cut the boys off before they could do what all us parents were dying to see them do: Freestyle.

If you have never seen ten little boys under the age of 8 freestyling, I’m sorry.

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D perfecting his freestyle headstand

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A perfect “X”!

I love seeing Belly dancing on stage because I think it shows how far she’s come—anxiety or not, that girl can conquer it and do this:

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I love her hands in this photo

Belly has what I call “Tall Girl Shoulders”. I should know, I had them too. Her ballet teacher and I are always reminding her to stand up tall and proud, not an easy thing when you are near girls who quite literally a head shorter.

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But dance is helping.

And then there is Jilly. When she was three and in a little YMCA dance class, the teacher pulled me aside and said, “she needs to get into a real dance class.”

She takes my breathe away on stage because for a child who can trip over air and create so much noise, it’s amazing how much she transforms into a tiny ballerina when the music starts.

My husband later lamented that he didn’t get any good pictures of Jilly dancing. I think he was too spellbound to put the camera in front of his face.

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I took this photo at the dress rehearsal

Next year, Belly will leave ballet for lyrical jazz and hip hop. Jilly will move to Ballet 2/3 and is adding hip hop too. D is undecided but I really hope he sticks with hip hop because he is so much fun to watch.

I must be crazy. I have pretty much insured I’ll be sitting in the dance studio twice as long next year. But, it’s the day after the recital, and my head is filled with the visions of my dancing sugarplums.

Encore! Encore!

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Happy Father’s Day!

June 19, 2011


Our kids are so lucky to have you as their dad!

Here’s to another year of fun and crazy. xoxoxoxo

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Raining on our parade

June 18, 2011

So. . .yay! The Boston Bruins won the Stanley Cup! I’m so happy for my husband who has watched the Bruins for years and years, waiting for this moment.

And now that it’s all said and done, he is now excitedly waiting for the moment when the Duck Boats line up and take the players through the streets of Boston while throngs of deliriously happy crowds scream, wave and throw confetti. Throngs that will include my family.

As soon as we heard that the parade would be held on Saturday, it was a no-brainer that we would all go. It’d be the kids first “sports champion” parade, and we knew they love it.

Oh, except that when I told the kids we were going, my six-year-old D went to his room, hid under the covers and burst into tears.

He was inconsolable; I was confused. What was this all about? Had I somehow raised a Canucks fan? (impossible, since I had to look up the spelling of “Canucks”). Did he harbor some strange fear of men in skates? I tried to explain that no one would be on skates, no one would hit him with a hockey stick. No go.

It was my husband who reminded me of our son’s hatred of parades. He reminded me of our trip to Disney a few years ago when every parade had our son quaking in his shoes:

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they can’t see me, right?

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I’ll just hide here behind this protective rack of towels

For the past 48 hours, I’ve tried reasoning with him, but every time the “P” word is mentioned or implied, his head goes under a pillow and the tears fall. It doesn’t matter that there will be no characters in costume, no clowns, no firetrucks blasting sirens, no marching bands. . .He wants nothing to do with it.

Part of me thinks, “Damn, why should I have to miss this too? He’ll get over it. I know it’s not scary or dangerous and this is a (possibly) once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Suck it up kid!”

And then I think, “C’mon, you don’t even like hockey! Who cares if you go or not? This can be a Daddy-and-the-girls outing. His life will be just as full without this experience–which he probably won’t remember anyway—and if it is causing him this much stress, just stay home.“

I suppose how you feel about this will greatly depend on how you feel about hockey, but what would you do in this situation? (if it helps, replace “hockey championships” with something that would make you or your spouse super excited and then answer).

And have you ever heard of a parade phobia before?? It’s not even listed in the gigantic list of phobias, so I’m not sure it exists, except in our household.

But, it seems genuine, so tomorrow, my paradaphobic (heh) son and I will bop around town, in our small little parade of two.
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