Hosanna is taking ballet lessons and it is that time of year. One word. Recital.
Several months back, I was informed through email that parents were to take careful measurements of their little ballerinas for the upcoming recital. Although in the past measurements were taken there, this method was to keep distractions from the classroom. So I whipped out my
Fast forward and the boxes of costumes have arrived at the dance school. We take Zanna's home and ooh and aah at the adorableness of it and promptly hang it up in her closet to forget about this $75 custom outfit until …. last Friday.
Friday was picture day! Yay! Picture day!
I had higher expectations this year than I did last year because last year's picture was adorable. Adorable.
The kids had soccer on Friday afternoon and we made our usual rush home for a very efficiently made and eaten meal so the guys could make it to confirmation class at church on time. We wrapped up dinner in record time and Zanna and I headed upstairs to get her all dolled up for this momentous occasion. I decided at the last minute to have her take a quick shower and wash her hair. I knew in my head at the moment I should let it go. The pictures are sure not to pick up the particles of food in her hair left from that mornings waffles. But I couldn't let it go. In the shower she went.
At this point she's dripping wet and time is ticking. Now I have to dry her hair and then get her little wisps all tucked into a neat bun on top of her head. This should be no big deal for a professional like me, right? Wrong. I struggle every time with getting her hair up and taming the fly away pieces. Now she's got clean, slippery hair and I would have been better off with the bits of maple syrup from before that at least would have helped the stray hairs from popping up.
I have to take out her earrings now. Bad news. One of them seems infected and she hyperventilates as I take it out and she sees blood. I see blood and the room starts to sway.
Now she brings up the makeup she said her teacher instructed them to wear. Lipstick, blush and something else she couldn't remember. "Mascara?" I suggest. "Yes!" I can barely get mascara on myself so I'm sure as heck not going to attempt to quickly apply it to my 8 year old. Maybe for the recital.
Tights are on. Button down shirt so as not to mess up hair. (this is the most impressing part of my role and forethought in this)
At this point I also take a closer look at her costume and items included with it. Headband for the hair. Not sure how to put that on but I'll wait until we see the other little girls.
Mysterious bag of clear plastic clips. I have no idea.
It is now time for us to be there and we are just leaving the house. I start to sweat.
We are LATE. The building is packed like sardines inside and anyone who knows me knows that I start hyperventilating in crowded spaces. We push through people to make our way to the change room when I notice her class is already lined up to go in for the pictures. I panic. Big time.
I am now that mother. You know - the one that starts to overreact about everything and yells at her kid to hurry up and starts throwing things and talking very loudly. I whip out that mysterious bag mentioned previously only to realize that they are two clear bra straps. Sure. For my 8 year old. Why didn't I see that coming?! Still not sure what to do with them.
Her outfit is now on. Guess what? Too small. Boy, didn't see that coming! But it'll work. All $75 of it.
We swim upstream through the crowd into the room where her group is lined up and ready to go. I ask in my very loud voice to no one in particular "How does this go into her hair?" At which point one nice mom instructs me on what to do and since I'm sweating and not thinking straight and this lady seems to know all there is to know about hair bands with flowers I suggest, "Can you just do it? Because I have no idea what you're saying." And she looks at me like I'm insane. Because I am.
Zanna starts noticing the makeup of the other little girls. Let's just say the pink lipstick and light blush on my little girl compared to the stage makeup of the others made her look Amish in comparison. (No offence against the Amish. I just don't think they're heavy on the makeup and I couldn't think of anything else.) One girl was sporting cat eyes. I am not kidding.
The line of girls starts to move forward and I remember the mysterious bag of bra straps and make the mistake of asking, "What are these for?" The mom who seems to know everything about everything (at least somebody does!) tells me that their teacher doesn't care if they wear the natural strap that the outfit comes with or change them out for the clear straps. I frantically look to see what all the other girls are wearing (because I've never outgrown peer pressure) and make the mistake of deciding in a split second that my little girl must have the clear strap on for her pictures as all but one of the other girls are wearing. Taking the natural strap off is no biggie. But the clear strap must be put on and tightened properly. The material that the clear strap is made of is stretchy and awkward but I am determined through sheer will and stubbornness that it will work. Until I realize that I have somehow managed to mangle said clear strap. I then understood why the outfit came with two straps. For idiots like me.
The pictures were taken while I breathed into my paper bag to calm down. We moved back into the change room to remove her costume and noticed we were parked next to cat eyes and her mom who had a fishing tackle box full of makeup. This was serious, people. I was under the impression going into this that this was a beginner ballet program of innocent, adorable 2nd graders. Now I realized this was the big leagues and I am out.of.my.league.
And now we enter the week of technical rehearsal, dress rehearsal and two recital shows. May the force be with us.
1 comment:
She looks absolutely beautiful!!!
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