It's gorgeous today. I've just been chased from my hammock by rampaging gnat hoards. Spent the morning horseback riding. Successfully. Lily got to ride her own pony today, holding the reins and all. Even got to trot on the long line. Julianna's looking much better and really getting into this whole horse thing. New foals all over the place. Looky:
Phone pic. Sorry. But sooo cute. No, this isn't the one Julianna camped out to see, but was born the day after that one was.
Last weekend was crazed. Dance recital, school auction. Cute will come, but first, auction report. I helped the preschoolers in Lily's class to make a bird bath. They mosaic-ed the basin and I traced their hands for the base:
With the kindergarteners, I had them make drawings of things they'd see outside ("fine, okay, yes, you'd see pirates outside. Draw a pirate ship. Great. Just no aliens!") and I decoupaged them onto a trunk I painted. I'd asked for gender non-specific dress-up items to put inside, but that utterly stymied the parents, so I filled it myself--cape, tunic, velvet slippers, hats, glasses, goggles, fake hair, leis, a feather boa, a dog collar.
I helped Ben's class put their quilt together. Their teacher had gotten a quilt kitfrom Oriental Trading Company that just required tying squares together, but we thought it would look better with a border and a backing. It's an Earth Day quilt:
And I donated a vintage-y apron and a fabulous Six Gables Original bag:
So I was a wee bit busy leading up to the auction. Because heaven knows I didn't get started until everyone else was loaded into the car to leave. Planning ahead is for corporate drones, man. I'm an artist.
In the midst of all this was the dance recital. You may remember that we went to this last year as well. The cute has not faded. Yea, I shall continue to attend this recital long after my own children have realized that their career in dance is not to be and moved on to other things. Cute, I'm telling you. Again, it appeared as if the dance teachers had just gone out and bought some costumes they liked, picked out some music, and then rounded up kids off the street. And, now that I think about it...we aren't allowed to watch the practices. I bet they aren't rehearsing at all. I bet they have them in there knotting Turkish rugs. Then they just turn the kids out on stageand the parents are convinced that driving in every week and paying 300 bucks a kid was totally worth it. hmpf. But, well, it was.
I chaperoned the first Act, since both Julianna and Lily were in the second act. If, when they'd asked for chaperones, they'd said, "We need people to hang out back stage and try to keep 12 five-year olds quiet for 30 minutes. They will want to crawl all over you and you will sit on the cement floor in your pretty summer dress that you got at Goodwill for 4 bucks, even though the tags were still on," there's no way I'd have caved. But I tend to step in when it becomes clear that no one else will (suck-er) and I ended up in the above scenario. On the floor, covered in the spandex-bedecked spawn of strangers. I survived. Got them on stage to stand there and watch the enthusiastic teenager do their dance while they shuffled listlessly and scanned the audience for Mommy. Then I got to see MY girls.
Of course, we can't take photos during the performance b/c this is a Serious Thing. And it's just as well b/c I didn't stand in line at 5 am to get tickets (no. Really.) and thus was in the balcony again. After the show, until they got hustled off, the girls got to dance around on the stage a bit:
Not the best quality, but still...CUTE. Having gone two years in a row, I think I could be a successful choreographer for this show. There are two kinds of numbers the audience really goes for:
1. Songs we know accompanying adorable small children meandering around.
2. Attempts at actual ballet. This is far more novel than you'd think. Most of the dances had a...modern feel. I feel I should write a letter that goes something like:
Dear YMCA dance people,
Enclosed please find 300 dollars and my commitment to drive my child to a lesson every week. In exchange I demand the following:
1. a tutu, not some stupid pajama looking ensemble or, god forbid, a jumpsuit. I want a tutu that either sticks out or hangs to the ankle. It should be worn with white or pink tights and pink or black ballet shoes. Hair in a bun.
2. Music that I can remember for either Music Appreciation class or Bugs Bunny. No howling ballads from modern songstresses.
3. At least once in the dance, the children must hold their arms gracefully over their heads and twirl slowly--on tippytoes--in a circle.
That's all I want. Thank you
Deana Greenberg
Oh, and here's me in my cutey tooty dress from Goodwill:
1 comment:
Just got back from my Brother's little girl's recital. I love it when there is just a "hint" of a routine that you know is dying to be danced and come to life on stage and you see glimpses of it.
There was one with little girls and they were supposed to be mothers out for a stroll in a park, complete with baby carriages and dolls. The routine was cute. The exit was hysterical when they all strolled off in a line and one little girl was too slow and the girl behind her was too fast and bumped into her about 3 times. On the third time we thought there was going to be a fist fight because she turned around and blessed her out. She ended up so frustrated with her carriage that she just picked it up and was heaving it across the stage in front of her.
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