The Graduate

My little dude had his first preschool graduation today! Yep, first. We'll do it again next year, and that will probably lead to some tears on my part...

I've never seen him force a smile like this before, but it's sort of cute that he wanted to make me happy -- because I do love me some photos. I have watched the video umpteen times already, working diligently to transcribe the teacher's description of my little man. (For some reason, the ability to take decent videos eludes me even while I am getting quite decent at taking still photographs.) 

It's amazing how anybody was able to describe him in such a condensed way, and yet I felt myself nodding along. Yes, that's my boy!

"Being a typical boy, he loves to jump and run. He was always the first to volunteer to go ride bikes in the large muscle room. It was also not unusual to find him with the other boys on the carpet playing with small manipulatives and building a fort. Another favorite area was the dramatic play, where he would pretend to make phone calls to his mom and sister. Logan is especially good at observing and analyzing an activity. When he comes to a table, he rarely needs directions since he can figure things out by himself. We are thrilled to have him back in the fall!"

Rollin' On...

I now have two children who can ride two-wheel bikes without training wheels! How is that even possible? On Saturday, April 19, Logan requested that Brett take the training wheels off his bike. I was in the house at the time and didn't even know that this was happening until Mia came running in to tell me that I "might want to see this!" Apparently, he got right up and started riding like it was no big deal. Um, you think I might like to see that? And take photos and video!

{Tongue out in intense concentration as he gets started...}

{And he's off. Look at him go!}

Proud mama right here, folks. I guess all that practice on the Strider really paid off. He knew how to get started, balance, turn, and stop all on his own! With tons of confidence. And when he falls down (which is hardly ever) he just gets right back up. I am so amazed!

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In other news, I am pleased to announce the results of the giveaway sponsored by Path Publishing! Congratulations to Liz! Liz, I will be in touch with you soon.

On Letting Go

I was really, really looking forward to this day. I had talked about it for months (occasionally with random strangers at Kroger or Meijer, anyone who was within earshot and might appear to care even slightly). As soon as Logan started preschool, I was going grocery shopping WITHOUT KIDS!

So, when his first day of preschool came, it didn't occur to me to be sad. I had spent so long dreaming of a couple of hours in which I could actually hear myself think -- whatever that means. We had done our best to prepare him for school, but little did I know that I was the one who should have been preparing.

The drive to school ended up being more than I anticipated and the whole time I was focused on getting him there in one piece. The fog was dreadful that morning, I was still getting over being awfully sick, and to make matters worse, I had completely forgotten about the detour in downtown (which can happen when one is in a mental fog).

It goes without saying that we were a bit late. Of course, this didn't phase my little dude one bit. He was seriously excited to start school. His only upset that morning was when he learned that he would not get a lunch since he wouldn't be staying the whole day. All of a sudden, he doesn't need me anymore?

Not caring about being behind schedule, he ran right in and sat down on the colorful alphabet rug. I was slightly disheartened to not get even a fist bump and I must have voiced this because the teacher told him I needed a fist bump and he obliged before heading back to the rug. I left the classroom feeling deflated. All of a sudden, he doesn't need me anymore?

Weirdly enough, that is when it finally dawned on me that my baby was headed off to school. This was the last time that I would go through the first day of preschool. Even though he will always be my baby, he's not actually a baby any longer! Then, I felt a twinge of sadness, the emotion that I hadn't prepared myself for. All of a sudden, he doesn't need me anymore?

Someone once told me that parenting is a process of letting go. I think that this definition is apt because oftentimes the littlest things suddenly take on a monumental quality -- dropping my baby off at preschool for the first time -- but if I stop and think about it with more perspective, it all seems more reasonable, more like something I can take on. All of a sudden, he doesn't need me anymore? 

No! Of course, he still needs his mommy. At four years old, though, he simply doesn't need me to hold his hand when he goes off on a new adventure. While this was very unexpected -- Mia has always been much more cautious of new experiences, a quality she comes by quite honestly -- it's not at all bad. So, he doesn't need me quite as much as he used to. This change is not as sudden as I might have thought. We have worked toward this, taking baby steps toward independence all along the way. If anything, this is my biggest success story as a parent: helping to foster his autonomy.

The funny thing is that it's harder on me, this letting go. Today, as I pushed my shopping cart around Kroger (a regular cart, not the ridiculously unwieldy race car model that I would have been forced to struggle with had my little dude been along), I felt kind of alone. It wasn't the dream "vacation" that I had mentally built it up to be. It was just a trip to the store -- minus the 3-foot-tall dictator whining for a second Dum Dum sucker because he had finished it before we even made it out of the produce department.

While it was a much quieter shopping trip, it took me that same amount of time, and I spent just as much money. (And here I was thinking that I would really up my coupon game without the distraction of my noisy little guy.) As I went past the end cap with all the Hot Wheels cars, I noticed it was quite picked over, and I was reminded of my favorite little boy who had swiped two cars on two separate shopping trips in the past few weeks -- while I was busy fussing with said coupons. As frustrating as those trips to Kroger had been after I discovered the torn-open packages, seeing that display made me smile.

It turns out that shopping without kids isn't all it's cracked up to be, at least not until I get the hang of it. For now, I am just trying to embrace my mixed emotions about Logan getting older. Excitement turned to sadness at the drop of a hat. Who knew that growing up would be harder for the mommy than it is for the little boy?

{NOT a baby, but always my baby!}

The Problem with Pinterest

Well, here's another idea I found on Pinterest. (I'm starting to think this should be a tag in and of itself.) First, let me say that it had never occurred to me to use sidewalk chalk for photo props, and I think this idea is pretty brilliant. When I told Mia about the idea to write "Kindergarten" on the driveway and then have her lie down next to it for a fun end-of-school-year photo, she was excited to try it out!

However, the problem lies in actually pulling off a successful photo. (Things are always easier in theory than in actuality, right?) Naturally, the post that this links to doesn't give any directions on how to produce the cute photo results, so I had to wing it. That didn't seem like it would be terribly difficult but the next obstacle was the weather. It was unseasonably cool on the last couple days of school, and she was actually wearing jeans and long-sleeve tops! That didn't seem very summery, and I didn't want to make her miserable, so I didn't even suggest trying the photo "session" on those days. Then, it rained. And then we had Daddy's birthday to celebrate so her portrait session was placed on the back burner.

Finally, there was a day when it rained, and then cleared up, and the driveway was dry enough to give it a whirl. The sun was shining at that point, and I thought we were golden! I grabbed a piece of pink sidewalk chalk and wrote "Kindergarten" as artistically as possible, and then I went to grab my camera. When I returned, Mia had taken orange chalk and drawn hearts all around the lettering. At first, I was caught off guard, and if I'm being honest, I was a teensy bit upset because I had worked to make it look "Pinterest perfect." But, then I decided to just roll with it because this was, after all, about her. ("It's not about me!" is one of those mommy mantras that pops up from time to time, and I really hope I'm not alone in this.)

Unfortunately, I quickly realized that there can be too much of a good thing, in this case, sunshine. Seriously? Yes, I know it's hard to believe, but that sun we were pining for came back to bite us. The first few photos I took included Mia squinting into the sunlight, resulting in some less than ideal portraits. She didn't really look thrilled to have just finished kindergarten. Instead she looked like she was in pain. Rats!

Obviously, didn't want us to remember kindergarten as the year that made her quite constipated, (if you go by facial expressions, alone, this is how I am reading that look) so I then decided to have her sit up for a different view point that would hopefully avoid the squinty-eyed-make-it-fast-you're-killing-me-here-Mooooooooooom look. It wasn't the shot I was really after, but it was a definite improvement.

Undeterred, and still hoping to get that lying down shot of her next to the word "Kindergarten," we decided to wait until it was slightly cloudier before trying again. By then, she wanted to wear socks and shoes with her capris, which was a look I wasn't totally digging. But again, I let it slide because it wasn't that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, and it seemed like that was what she was offering me, a take-it-or-leave-it opportunity. Since I was really wanting that picture that looked so perfect on Pinterest, darn it, I decided to take it! Well, this is as good as it gets. I haven't figured out yet, if having a step stool was helpful or not, but it was something I experimented with to try to get the right angle. Anyway, Mia at least looks happy in those last few attempts, so I will try to overlook those silly socks and shoes.

Someday, we may a whole album or photo book full of these goofy end-of-school-year memories to display at her graduation. (I really am trying to let go of some of my idealistic expectations, but it's a process.) Hopefully, we'll learn a few little tips along the way. And, I'm guessing some of them won't even be about achieving picture perfect results. ("It's not about me!")

Emotional Purging

Sometimes it's the seemingly little things that are really the biggest things. Tonight, for example, I packed what will be Mia's last school lunch as a kindergartener. That could make me sad, but recently, I had some much-needed emotional purging (although I didn't know I was due for it at the time.)

It started out with a simple trip to the salon. I hadn't been there in, oh, about 6 months, because I was really happy with the way my hair looked. (I will swear to the ends of the earth that giving up shampoo was the single best thing I have done for my hair, and consequently for my self-esteem -- because regardless whether or not a woman is high maintenance, her hair is a huge part of how she expresses herself to the world.) I was growing it out because I thought it made me look pretty, and it made me feel younger, and I figured that if I ever got sick of it being longer than it's been in quite some time, I would just cut it and donate it...

So, why did I make that appointment for a "trim?" Well, I am insanely excited about an upcoming vacation without children!!!  (To a tropical island! Eeeeee!) I have so, so, so much to do to get ready, and I decided that I could hear my stylist in my head saying that my "ends are looking a bit skinny." Really, that's what she has told me in the past. Anyway, I figured it was best to get it shaped up before the trip, and I thought I could tick that off my to-do list quite easily.

I called the salon and scheduled a trim, and thought I was so lucky to be able to get in with my stylist (who's done my hair for almost 8 years now) the very next day. Sounds straight-forward enough. I showed up, laughed about how I heard her voice in my head worrying over my "skinny ends," and made a point of saying that I was really happy with my hair and just needed it to be cleaned up a bit. Then, I proceeded to yammer on while she did her thing. Topics of conversation included my upcoming vacation, obviously, but also some other beauty-related items of current interest to me: homemade shaving cream, homemade facial cleanser, and my general disgust with parabens. (Perhaps I need to get out more. These are kind of sad topics for general conversation, but they're pretty important to me!)

The next thing I knew, she was handing me the mirror to view the finished haircut. This was when I realized that she had taken off much more than I was anticipating, at least two or maybe three inches! (Truthfully, it's hard to gauge length since my hair is naturally curly, plus, she always manages to make it much fuller than I ever could.) Since I was somewhat it shock (How did I not realize what was happening?!) I just thanked her, paid the bill, and gave her a ten percent tip, as I normally would. Then, I went home and studiously avoided looking at myself in the mirror by taking the kids outside to play, doing yard work, and basically, pretending that I had not just lost all the hair I had been growing out for over 6 months, the hair that made me feel more attractive than I had in ages, the hair I was planning to donate... I was totally in denial.

This experience has taught me that it's actually possible to go through all five stages of grief in one day. Once I finally came back indoors, several hours later, to use the bathroom, I saw my reflection. Then, it really hit me that my hair was gone and there was nothing I could do about it. This led to some majorly-blown-out-of-proportion depression, complete with out-and-out sobbing, the kind that made me gasp for air, the kind that made me have puffy, swollen eyelids, the kind that went on much longer than it should have because each time I began to calm down, I had another irrational thought that provoked more outbursts. Part of me was disappointed in myself for crying in front of the kids (or at least for not having a "good" reason for my grief). Another part of me felt selfish and guilty for mourning my hair in the first place, considering how many people I know who have cancer and would probably love the opportunity to cry over a "bad" haircut because it would mean that they have enough hair to go to the salon and get it cut in the first place! But still, I couldn't stop crying for a good twenty minutes. Depression.

Then, I went through what must be considered the bargaining phase, essentially trying to rationalize things by constantly asking the "what if?" questions. Why didn't I pay attention to what she was doing? Why was I talking so much? I should have told her up front not to cut more than 1/4" off the length! Didn't she understand me when I said I was really happy with my hair, that I meant the length? What was I thinking making a hair appointment when I loved my hair the way it was? I should have never done that.... Now, how will I ever have enough to donate?

This led to anger. This can't be happening to me! What if my now-short-hair looks like a poof-ball on our tropical vacation? What if I can't get it up anymore? (And I just recently have been getting compliments on wearing my hair up, so I have started doing it more often.) I went upstairs, tossed my clothes aside while quickly undressing, let forth some under-my-breath screams (still not wanting to freak my kids out over this -- and Brett was wisely standing aside and letting me fight my demons), and then got into the shower. I let the hot water beat down on me for a while, soaking my odious, too short hair, and washing away most of my frustrations. Stepping out of the shower, I felt that I had purged most of the negative emotional energy, and surveying my wet locks, felt more like myself. Even if the mirror reflected my shorter hair, it at least looked a bit longer since it was wet.

After my shower, I felt enlightened. The tears were not for my hair, not really. That was just the trigger to my emotional purge, the last straw as it were. This "bad" haircut had been the conclusion to a very emotional week. I had learned that my dance teacher was injured and wouldn't be able to teach any classes until fall, so I am without an outlet for all of this stuff... Mia's first loose tooth was quite the milestone event, and then a couple days after that, we went to her "kindergarten graduation." It was so amazing to see how far she has come in the past few months! This is a lot for most people to take in, I can imagine. But for me, being so very sensitive, it makes absolute sense now that I was due for a good cry so that I could come to terms with all the big changes and then move forward. (This has historically been how I have coped with all the little mole hills building up until one seems like a giant mountain, threatening to engulf me.) As upsetting as it was, this was not about my hair. This was about my baby girl growing up. After a refreshing shower, I realized these things, and I while felt completely spent after crying, I was also relieved, physically and emotionally purged.

Did I finally achieve acceptance? Well, my hair looked more like "me" once it dried. Plus, it's bouncier and healthier looking. In truth, I didn't get a "bad" haircut after all. My stylist knows my hair better than I do, apparently. While it wasn't exactly what I was hoping for, I do look good with the shorter hair style. And the stuff that really triggered the tears? Well, I can deal with that, too, just one thing at a time.

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By the way, having stayed up past my bedtime tonight and blogging into tomorrow, I have now just reached my 3rd "blogiversary!" This means that it's been three years since I wrote this, (which was viewed by all of three people) and here I am still at it, wondering where to go from here... Thanks so much for stopping by and reading my thoughts! I love being able to share parts of my life in this way, and I hope that you, too, get something out of it. Sorry, no fabulous giveaways, or anything like that, but someday, perhaps, I will be able to do that sort of thing!

Operation Ninja Fairy

It may be time to brush up my mommy "resume." I can now say that I am a "ninja fairy," after successfully making it through our first experience with the Tooth Fairy! And this was not without a fair bit of drama and seemingly huge decision making of the non-life-threatening kind.

All day yesterday Mia was bothered by a wiggly tooth while she was at school. By dinnertime, she was crying that her mouth hurt. I, in a fit of what can only be termed temporary insanity, offered to pull it out for her. Aside from being gross and weird and causing my poor baby additional pain, this did not even work! Fortunately, it must have at least loosened it up, because the tooth came out in time for her to play outside before getting ready for bed.

{My BIG girl's 1st missing tooth!}

This was a relief for all of us as she had been nearly inconsolable with grief over losing her tooth, wailing, "I don't want to lose my baby tooth! I want to keep it." We tried reassuring her that this was a completely normal part of growing up, (while trying to maintain composure over this bittersweet rite of passage -- it's tough realizing that your baby is not really a baby any longer!), but she was far from convinced that her suffering was all worth it. The only thing keeping her from totally falling apart was her excitement about the Tooth Fairy's upcoming visit. (The anticipation of this was even enough to calm her relatively soon after the tooth fell out, when she realized, with horror, that she was GASP! Bleeding! I told you there was some drama involved in this story.)

On the topic of the Tooth Fairy, I really should do more advanced planning, it seems. This was the first lost baby tooth for our family, so I had no idea what to do. One good thing is that I had learned somewhere of a cute idea for tooth fairy "transactions." So, I purchased two Scentsy baby stuffed animals when I was at a party in December (this was one at which I was also selling Dove, before I went out of business). One is "Patch," a dog, and the other one is "Ollie" the elephant. I knew Mia would be likely losing her first tooth at some point this year, and my plan was to let her choose one, and then Logan would get the other one when he loses his first tooth. At the time, it seemed like a fun investment, but at $20 a pop it was a total splurge, not a typical purchase for me. However, having a weakness for creating new family traditions won out in the end. I know I could have made some sort of little pouch with scrap material and saved quite a bit, but this was too cute to resist, and I felt it would be less likely to get lost. (See, I really did convince myself that it was an investment.)

Fortunately, Mia loved the idea! She chose Patch, the dog, who is now called "Emma." We put her tooth into a tiny ziplock bag (that once held extra thread for a sweater) and I, being a teensy bit anal, labeled it with a black Sharpie: "Mia's First Loose Tooth 5/29/13." While the labeling probably wasn't necessary (although I do plan to keep them and let her have them in the future to do with as she decides and it's kind of neat to have a record), I was glad that it was contained in the bag. This made it much easier to retrieve the tooth from "Emma" the dog's zippered pouch -- in the darkness.

{First missing tooth -- and a new friend!}

The only problem was that I wasn't sure what to swap for the tooth. So, I set out in search of the "going rate" for teeth. First I actually Googled "going rate for tooth fairy" and immediately pulled up a poll done by Delta Dental of Illinois. (There was then a short discussion with Brett since he also works at Delta, just in one of the Michigan branches. Hey, did you know there's this ongoing poll done every year... No? Well, it comes up right away in a Google search!) According to that survey, the average amount given per tooth was $2.42 last year, with an even higher average of $3.49 given for a first tooth! WHAT?! This seemed awfully high to me, so I decided to check with my mom friends to see what "real" people are thinking on this subject. This is the (un-edited, so please excuse any typos) conversation that took place on Facebook last night:

• Me: Okay friends, what is the "going rate" for the tooth fairy these days?
• Jamie: $5.00
• Erin: She brought $5 for the first tooth.
• Me: That seems high! I got a quarter when I was a kid.
• Me: Maybe for the first tooth, though?
• Erin: LOL! She brought $2 for the rest.
• Me: I was thinking maybe $2 since it's the first tooth and $1 for the next teeth, but maybe I haven't adjusted for inflation!? 
• Jamie: lol ya $2.00 is good people say $5.00 but i think thats a little high too
• Jade: $.25 I guess we are cheap
• Julie: I gave $5 first tooth &; $1 for the rest. Danielle liked it when it was a fresh crisp bill. I have friends who said they sprinkle glitter on it too! I like that idea!
• Heather: Our tooth fairly deals in odd currency....such as fifty cent peices, gold one dollar coins, ect. Owen loves it! It makes it totally believable because he doesn't normally see those except for from the tooth fairy.
• Me: I like the glitter idea, and Jade, you are not cheap! They don't need all kinds of cash, nor do they need to expect to get paid just for losing teeth. We pay $2 weekly allowance, but ONLY if she cleans her room properly that week. If not, she just forfeits the money. I am struggling with how much to give because I don't want it to be a free-for-all type thing. 
• Me: Oooh! Heather, that is awesome!!
• Me: The only problem is that I don't have odd currency lying around... Gotta plan ahead for these things.
• Heather: I have a baggie full of odd currency. I'm ready for the next 10 teeth...lol. My parents did this for me when I was a kid...that may be the reason I believed for way too long.
• Me: I do have those gold $1 coins they got at church some months back. Would it be bad if I recycled it?
• Heather: No...I'm doing that! 
• Me: I may do that then. If he hasn't caught on then, hopefully Mia won't realize either. I do want it to be fun, just not a huge money grab. 
• Julie #2: $1 for first and 50cents for rest. No reason to blow out of proportion!
• Heather: He forgot about them. I bet she does too. Owen did say something about them at the time he got them. But I told him Rev. Lewis must be pretty good friends with the tooth fairy. He seemed ok with that.
• Me: So, I could do the gold $1 coin tonight (which I have, thankfully!) and then scrounge up some 50 cent pieces to keep on hand.... may have this figure out.
• Me: Thanks everyone! Now, I just have to figure out how to be stealthy...

Stealthy indeed! Who came up with this idea anyway? It is waaaaaaaaaaaay trickier to be the Tooth Fairy than it is to be Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. Neither one of those family traditions have ever required me to sneak into the room of my sleeping child and to try to add or remove any items from her pillow! Mia still goes to bed with her lamp on, and one of us goes in and turns it off after she is asleep, at her request, so at least that part is routine. However, I have never been so anxious about disturbing her while doing this. It felt like if I woke her up for this first tooth, we were pretty much out of luck for continuing the tradition, and for some crazy reason this felt like the weight of the entire world upon my shoulders. While tip-toeing into Mia's room, she stirred in her bed, and it felt like my heart lodged in my throat. Silly, I know, but I was really on edge. I swear the only sound in the house was my own heart pounding. After turning out her light, I swept Emma into my hand and hurried into the hallway. (I was relieved that I convinced her not to put Emma underneath her pillow, which is what she originally wanted to do! Can you imagine how much harder that would be? I instantly felt awe for my own parents. How the heck did they do that, removing a tooth, and slipping a quarter into its place? I think it requires the skills of a super secret agent or something.) I un-zipped the pocket, and inserted the gold $1 coin and a folded-up note that I had typed up and formatted to be small enough to look like it came from the Tooth Fairy, but still big enough to read easily. I also added a very small amount of silver glitter. The note read:

May 29, 2013

Dear Mia,

     Congratulations on losing your first tooth! I am

very pleased to see that it is in such beautiful

condition. You obviously take very good care of

your teeth, working hard to keep them shiny

and white. Please keep up to great work by

continuing to brush twice a day!

P.S. Don’t forget to floss!

                                                Your Friend,

                                                The Tooth Fairy

 

I zipped the pouch bag up, again tip-toed into Mia's room, and left the stuffed dog on top of her pillow. Whew! Mission accomplished, and she didn't wake up. The Tooth Fairy myth was safely intact! Go me! And I encouraged her to be a superstar with her oral hygiene, all the better! Feeling extremely relieved and more than a bit proud of myself, I returned downstairs. That's when I realized that I had left the tooth inside the stuffed dog! Brett and I quickly decided that I had to go back to retrieve the tooth. Seriously? I was already on an adrenaline high from the first go-round. I was kind of worried that this would the thing that would push me right over the precipice... Fortunately, I succeeded in my mission, and I think I have rightly earned the title of "ninja fairy!" (In my head, I have dubbed this first super secret mission "Operation Ninja Fairy" so maybe in the future I will come up with more silly names for these after-hours tooth-swapping missions.)

As expected, Mia awoke extra early this morning, positively giddy over the discovery of the special gold coin. Heather was right. She had no recollection of getting 5 of them from church. She thought it was really cool and said, "Wow! I've never seen a coin like this before!" And believe me, I wasn't about to correct her! Not after all of the effort that went into the whole charade. She must really love the little note from the Tooth Fairy because she stuck it on the refrigerator. I waited a bit and then showed her the "fairy dust" on the inside of Emma's pouch. She studied this, and then I feared I had gone too far when she told me, "It looks just like glitter." Uh oh! Luckily, she then added, "But it's really fairy dust," and she was clearly thrilled to see it. So, in the end, we have one very happy little girl who couldn't wait to get to school to share her special news with her teacher. And, yes, I'm one pleased-as-punch "ninja fairy" mama, too.

{The goods -- and a gap-toothed grin!}

Look Mom: No Training Wheels!

Here is Mia's latest masterpiece, a chalk drawing from last night, entitled, "Turtle Riding a Bicycle." I LOVE this drawing because it is cute and very original. Plus, I am proud because when she announced, "I'm going to draw a turtle riding a bike," she simply did it. She did it without complaining that she didn't know how to or asking me to help her in any way. (I prefer not to help her with her drawings because I want her to learn to solve her own problems.) Note that the safety-conscious reptile is, of course, wearing his helmet. This is one of those examples of art imitating life.

Starting kindergarten has definitely improved Mia's sense of independence. In fact, she asked us to take the training wheels of her bike this past Friday evening. She got pretty good at braking (and falling without doing too much damage) before bedtime. By Sunday evening, she had figured out how to slow down, turn around, and then keep going so that she was able to race up and down the driveway repeatedly, huge grin plastered to her face. She had even requested that we get out her knee and elbow pads, which she normally passes on, so I saw that as a sign of using common sense to minimize injuries. The helmet is NOT optional, and she knows this. That's why the turtle drawing really made me smile.

{Mia first practiced riding her old bike sans training wheels on Friday night.}

{By Sunday night, she was feeling much more confident on her "big girl" bike! In fact, she was going so fast, that most of my pictures were too blurry to use.}

Tiny Dancer

Last Saturday was the all-important first dance recital. Mia took her first tap class this year, and although this was not her first dance class, it was her first recital, since last year she was the flower girl in my brother's wedding. (If you have been reading for awhile you may remember my learning curve from last year when Mia took her pre-ballet class so you may possibly understand my concern for getting it right.)

{Here's my tiny dancer all prepped for her dress rehearsal.}

I had a lot of anxiety about the recital. For one thing, I had been warned by Mia's friend's mom that her friend had spent the past two recitals crying in the back room the entire time. See, we had to drop her off and she wasn't allowed to sit with us. (I can't remember whether or not she could sit with us if we bought her a ticket or not... I guess I could check the recital handbook, which was several pages long. No joke. I was already kind of annoyed about having to buy tickets for Brett and myself for $13 apiece.) And although her dance was the second to last performance of this recital (It was the Saturday matinee and the third of four recitals.), I didn't want to take her at intermission because I feared that we wouldn't get decent seats, (after paying for seats it's general admission) and if we couldn't see her, what was the point? If you are sensing that I am frustrated by how BIG of deal all of this is, you are right.

Getting her ready was stressful. The handbook said that buns were required. Considering Mia's recent self-haircut and my general lack of hairstyling skills, this was no easy feat. I used a lot of bobby pins and hairspray, which are both foreign objects to my five year old. This was after getting her into her outfit (thankfully, we didn't snag the tights) and trying not to think about how I hoped she didn't have to use the bathroom at all since I didn't want a stranger helping her in and out of the costume, especially considering she couldn't wear underwear with the costume. After a reasonably successful bun was formed, I had to place her little "pillbox" type hair accessory, and make sure that it was stay (it had come loose during the mandatory dress rehearsal and so I had to try to fix it as best I could before they were put in silly poses for a required group professional photo following the rehearsal. Is it just me, or would it make more sense to take pictures before they dance?)

{This is the bun and "pillbox" before dress rehearsal. I made sure that "pillbox" went around the bun for recital since that is how the other girls were wearing it.}

Next came makeup. Oh boy, was this something I fretted over. I wanted to make sure she had enough to fit in (since after dress rehearsal I worried that I hadn't used enough), but not so much that she looked like a clown. There were a couple of disasters involving mascara and eye liner (both were removed before I did too much damage), and I wondered how in the world those pageant moms on "Toddlers and Tiaras" do this to their kids all the time. In the end, I thought she looked very pretty with foundation, blush, lavender eye shadow, and lipstick. Brett laughed at me before we left because I was trying to make the lipstick as perfect as I could (even knowing that it would likely be gone by the time she went on stage and there was no way of knowing if anyone was going to touch it up for her). "No, do a bigger kissy face," I told her. It is difficult to apply lipstick to her tiny lips.

{Makeup may be a new thing for this girl, but glamour poses are not!}

I dropped her off 20 minutes before 1:00 showtime. She seemed fine with being left since she saw a couple of friends from her class. I mentioned to one of the mom volunteers that it was her first time in hopes that she would help her if needed. She had her backpack with extra makeup, water bottle, doodle pad, crayons, coloring book, a book about dance, and some forbidden snacks. (Hey, it was going to be a long time and I didn't want her to get cranky from hunger so I packed pretzels and a Fruit Roll-Up, which were the least messy things I could find in the pantry. It turned out that she and her friend were told they couldn't eat, but she said they ate as much as they could before getting caught.)

{The end pose of "High Hopes" is the second cutest part of the dance routine. Everyone loves when the girls all stomp their feet in unison to the part about not being able to "make that ram scram."}

This was a loooooooooong show. Counting the 15 minute intermission, it ran 3 1/2 hours. It probably could have been trimmed down significantly if they had skipped the musical theater numbers (all of the songs from "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" and then "Grease" in the second half) and that's not counting all of the filler skits (so that the older girls could change costumes approximately 20 times because obviously they need to perform ALL of their numbers for ALL of the four recitals. Grrrrr.) I had no idea that they did all of that. Plus after Mia's number, there was a large group performance of "Thriller" followed by company bows, which took awhile. Poor Logan crawled from Brett's lap to Grandma and Grandpa to me over and over and played with the contents of my purse. The only good thing was that we didn't need to buy a ticket for him because he is still 2. I was mentally crossing my fingers that he didn't lose that purple ticket that they told me I would need to get Mia at the end.... surely, they weren't complete sticklers about that? And then about a quarter of the way through the first half he started asking at the end of each number, "Done now?" (And he didn't do this quietly.) Thankfully, the people around us thought it was cute and even told me so at intermission. Brett took him out and bought him snacks from their concession stand (Cheetos and Oreos) and took him outside for as long as possible. I was truly shocked that it was enough to get him through the recital.

We were all hot and tired by the end. Poor Mia was actually rubbing her eyes during her 2 minute stage debut, tap dancing to "High Hopes," and obviously looking adorable (if slightly unsure of all the moves). Brett pointed out that all the kids in her age group needed to do was walk on stage and the audience let out a collective "awwwwww." Any dancing they did was just icing on the cake. My face was actually tired from smiling while the little ones danced (that and the special needs classes; they were probably the biggest hits of the show). I still can't get over the fact that she had to go last. Who expects a bunch of 4-6 year olds to wait that long? Apparently, the dance studio does. They must have been oblivious to the fact that these kids should be their crowd-pleasing bread and butter, not those high school girls that they felt the need to show off repeatedly.

Finally, it was over and I was anxious to retrieve her from the band room. I tried to go through the nearest door, which I had used to take her backstage at dress rehearsal along with many other moms, but it was blocked by a large man dressed as a zombie (remember "Thriller" was the finale?) who informed me that he wasn't allowed to let anyone through. Not one to argue with the undead, I got into the massive group that was shuffling toward the main exit. Brett told me not to worry; we'd get her soon. I ran into Mia's friend's mom in the hallway and told her I wasn't sure where the end of the "line" was. It was really just a traffic jam of moms waiting to pick up their kids. She suggested that I stay with her, so I did. Then, once I gave someone my ticket it seemed to take too long for them to bring Mia to me. I could see her lined up in the adjacent hallway but I couldn't have her, which was nerve-racking. Eventually, someone brought her to me, explaining that her ID tag on the back of her costume had been hidden by her backpack so it took longer to locate her. Just when I thought the stress was over, she walked out into the crowd, took it all in, and immediately asked me if I had flowers for her.

Um, no, I didn't realize that we had to buy our kids flowers. I thought the gift was a year worth of dance classes. Silly me. And Brett had spent our money on overpriced junk food. Thank goodness for Grandma. She quickly went and bought Mia a bouquet of brightly dyed Gerbera daisies (which are in a vase of purple water right now, even though I have changed that water). That did the trick. She was happy again and let us take a couple of pictures that she had refused prior to getting her flowers. She commented that a few other kids were getting gifts, but thankfully, she didn't make an issue of that. She did complain that she had to "be in that room for hours," and I couldn't blame her. It was definitely an experience. Now we know what to expect, and we can hopefully plan better for next year. She says she can't wait to take tap again, and that tells me that it was all worth it.

2010 Milestones and Memories

January

• 8: Logan's first solid food- rice cereal (It wasn't a success; his reflux was still really bad.)
• 30: Mia's 3rd Birthday Party 

February

• 26: Logan rolled over (back to front)
• 28: Family trip to the Kalahari indoor water park

March

• 3: Tried rice cereal again
• 4: Our first preschool visit (Parker's Place)
• 8: Logan tried oatmeal
• 13: Mia pooped in the potty
• 19: Mia went all day with no potty accidents
• 24: Logan tried barley cereal
• 26: Logan switched to medium size Fuzzi Bunz
• 27: Logan tried peas
• 30: Logan tried butternut squash

April

• 2: Logan tried sweet potatoes
• 3: Easter Egg hunt/Logan met the Easter Bunny
• 4: Logan's first Easter
• 5: Logan tried apples
• 8: Logan tried pears
• 11: Logan tried banana
• 14: Logan tried acorn squash
• 17: Logan tried plums
• 18: Logan started "Army" crawling
• 20: Mia sang the ABC song
• 20: Logan tried nectarines
• 23: Logan tried avocado
• 26: Logan tried zucchini/Logan started crawling
• 29: Logan first used sippy cup/tried green beans

May

• 2: Logan tried chicken
• 5: Logan pulled up to standing/Logan tried carrots
• 8: Logan tried beef
• 9: Logan's baptism (Mother's Day)
• 10: Logan climbed the landing
• 11: Mia wrote her name/Logan tried mangos
• 12: Logan stood on his own/Logan's first tooth (lower right center)
• 14: Logan tried broccoli
• 18: Logan tried black beans
• 21: Logan tried papaya/Cheerios
• 24: Logan crawled up the stairs/Logan's 2nd tooth/tried white potatoes
• 27: Logan tried asparagus/cheese
• 29: Logan tried wheat bread/turkey/apple cinnamon puffs
• 30: Logan tried peaches
• 31: Logan tried watermelon/corn

June

• 4: Logan tried apricots/plain yogurt
• 7: Took kids to Spicer's/picked strawberries
• 12: My first Mom 2 Mom sale (as a seller)
• 15: Toured Chelsea Bear Company
• 21: Logan said "dada"
• 24: Logan's 3rd tooth (upper left center)
• 21-25: Galactic Blast Vacation Bible School
• 28: first trip to Hawk Island Splash Pad

July

• 1: Mia to ENT specialist (one tube removed; one remains)
• 3: trip Up North to see Grandma and Grandpa
• 6: Logan's 4th tooth (top right center)
• 11: Mud Hens Game (Grandpa bought Logan his first cap)
• 19: Fowlerville Fair
• 23: Logan's first steps
• 24: Logan waved bye-bye/clapped hands
• 27: Logan said "mama"

August

• 7: trip Up North
• 14: found out Mia will be a flower girl/I will be a bridesmaid! (discovered fleas on Ritzy-boo!)
• 26: Logan's 12 month/family portraits
• 28: Logan's 1st Birthday Party
• 30: Logan's 5th tooth

September

• 5: went to Toledo Zoo
• 9: Logan's 6th tooth
• 13: took kids to Potter Park Zoo
• 17: Mia's first ballet class
• 25: trip Up North/Logan's first word = haha (I haven't heard him say it since, so I don't know if this counts.)

October

• 2: My first day teaching Sunday School
• 5: I thought Logan said "nana" (banana), but haven't heard him say it since.
  
• 7: Mia's first day of preschool
• 10: Logan climbed into a chair
  
• 13: Logan pointed
• 16: Halloween party w/ family Wizard of Oz themed costumes/Logan went down all the stairs
• 17: trip to the pumpkin patch

November

• 2: Logan sat at the table and ate with a fork
  
• 11: Logan drank from a real cup (non-sippy)/7th tooth (first molar-top right)
• 18: Logan gives up the pacifier (our choice-not his)
• 23: family trip to the Ann Arbor Hands-On Museum
• 24: Logan's 8th tooth (top left molar)
• 25: Our first time hosting Thanksgiving dinner
• 26: Brett took Mia to the Festival of Lights Parade

December

• 2: Our first neighborhood cookie exchange
• 3: Mia's first birthday party at a friend's house
• 5: Logan shook head "no"
• 7: Logan's 9th tooth (lower right molar)
• 9: took Mia to her first play (Seussical Jr.)
• 10: Logan walked down the stairs holding onto my hand/shook his head "no" correctly
• 12: Logan shook head "yes" (correctly)
• 13: Logan turned light switch on and off (while I held him)
• 14: Logan "blew" on his food to cool it
• 21: trip Up North for Christmas
• 27: family Christmas #2