Did You Know That They Make Showgirl's in Pint Size?

So, last week was National Dance Week. Did you know? Were you all a twitter with excitement? Did you even know that such a week existed? Yeah, me neither...

In honor of the highly anticipated, week long homage to the art of visual music, our tiny dancer took to the stage of our local mall and wowed the crowd with her relative lack of rhythm, coordination and timing. She comes by this naturally. As a small child, taking ballet, I was awful. So awful that my mother has often recounted to me the tale of watching my recital and having the parent next to her point me out and say "Well, at least my kid is better than that one." To which she of course had no choice but to say something to the effect of "Yes, at least you can hold on to that...course when she's not dancing, my kid is waaay cuter than yours."..Ok, she probably didn't say that, but I am sure she wanted to...as soon as she got done hiding under a rock and exercising her right to the plausible deniability that her blond hair and blue eyes lent her in regards to her green eyed, raven haired progeny. Honestly though, what she lacked in coordination she more than made up for in enthusiasm. And cuteness. Seriously, doesn't this level of cuteness just sort of give you a tooth ache?

As for the showgirl costume, we parents were given no say so in these sassy little, one shouldered numbers...all we were given was the bill. Had I know that my $69 wasn't even buying me two shoulders, I probably would have insisted on a discount. Of course, they did throw in the feathers for free. And after the recital is over we can send her off to Vegas to recoup the cost. I hear the market for pint sized chorus line rejects is hot.

I Lose...

This must be part of that whole survival of the fittest thing that Darwin was so keen on...apparently if stubbornness and persistence were the only deciding factors in evolution the Robin would be driving a Lexus and I would be extinct.

The New Hair-do

A few months back I posted about my apparent lack of attractiveness to other mommy types in the area. This phenomenon has continued to plague me and has in fact become a source of humor and endless jokes around the house, and with the one friend that I had successfully managed to not frighten away. It appears however that, at long last, I have discovered the key...unlocked the door...crossed some sort of bridge...and all it took was a haircut. Who knew?

For years I have toyed with the idea of cutting bangs to my long, mainly one length hair...and for years, I have chickened out. The excuses were many...I have a small forehead...they might curl up like the wicked witch's feet after the ruby slippers were removed...I'll look silly...it'll be too much upkeep...blah, blah and more blah.

Finally, last night I succumbed to temptation and had my hair wizard - and really, she *is* a wizard at the very least - add a frontal fringe to my look. And then, since I was being so "Devil-may-care", I told her to go ahead and style it wavy, rather than torturing her with another marathon, hours long straightening session. Because I am charitable that way. It's just the kind of girl I am.

The resulting look is a huge change from 24 hours ago. And apparently has worked some sort of magic trick.

We had story time at the library today...and one of the other mothers actually started a conversation with me. Willingly. Then, in the craft room, another mother smiled at me. Wow. I checked to make sure that there was no one behind me - all there was were books. Then, at ballet tonight 2 separate moms struck up conversations with me...fairly long conversations...and during one of them, another mom even jumped in and joined in the fun. It was amazing...people actually talking to me. Tomorrow I think I may try hang gliding.

I jest...but truly this is something of a milestone...a miracle...a turning point I daresay. And apparently all it took was bangs. Who knew?

I guess any fool could have told me that this:

Is way scarier than this:

Take No Prisoners

Recently my mom and step-dad visited for the weekend. We had a perfectly pleasant time and it was nice visiting...and of course, their visit also brought some funny along with it:

One night, my step-dad was wearing a Sweatshirt that said "Proud to be a veteran". After working long and hard to sound the words out, the kids looked at me and asked "What's a veteran?". Since I am always quick to pass the buck on explaining things I offered "Why don't you ask Nanny?" To which Nanny deftly explained what a veteran is and illustrated the point by saying "Nanny is a veteran because she was in the Navy and Poppy is a veteran because he was in the Army." Sabrina seemed satisfied with this answer....Sebastian on the other hand immediately looked concerned and said "Poppy, did you survive??"

Umm...I swear he's bright, really.