Anyway, this past weekend, I put all that guilt and hate into a tiny little box, locked it up tight and threw the key into Potter Lake. On Saturday, we participated in the epitome of all girly-girl culture - the dance recital.
Now, here's where everything gets a little tangled. Because, as uncomfortable as I was with the prospect of putting stage make-up on my little 4-year-old's face, I used to do it myself. Here's a secret for you all: I was a dancer.
Well, maybe "dancer" is again too much of an overstatement, but I used to dance. When I was younger. Much younger. Much, much younger. I was in dance recitals. I had the costumes. I had the make-up. I had the pointe shoes. I had it all. So, as much as it weirded me out to put lipstick on Molly, I was also excited that she was getting to do something that I had loved doing as a child. And, just to prove my former life to you, here are some embarrassing pictures of me from my dancing period.
|Although embarrassing, I did purposely leave out the pictures of me dancing with my giant glasses. Ah, early 90s eye-wear is oh, so stylish. But, luckily for both me and you, you will never see mine!|
Ok, well, maybe something like that did happen. Again, let me clarify (I feel there's a lot of that going on in this post.). Molly has been sick. She had thrown up a couple times and occasionally had a fever. But, when the ibuprofen kicked in - she was perfectly fine. We've been working for this recital for months. We've been going to rehearsal after dress rehearsal after rehearsal. We've tailored the costume. We've bought the tickets. Hell or high water, Molly was going to go to this recital. Well, that really does make me sound like a "Stage Mother." Yeesh.
The thing was, we had to get the timing just right on the dosing of the ibuprofen. If we did it too early, the effects would run out before Molly had to be on stage. If we did it too late, the effects wouldn't kick in until after she was off stage. It was a risky game of chance. There was a chance it could all go wrong.
It definitely started off headed in the wrong direction. Molly woke up from her nap and was not doing so well. Cory's sister, Amber, had come up from Ft. Worth to watch Molly's recital. She was over to help get her ready. We started curling her hair and putting on the aforementioned make-up. Molly started whining that she was cold. That darn fever was rearing its ugly head. Then she started whining that she wanted daddy to hold her. Yikes, this was going to be a long day.
|We tried to double-team it in order to get her ready as quickly as possible and minimize the whining.|
|Trying to coax a smile out of Sicky McGee.|
|It did not work. Is that not a pitiful-looking girl?|
First up was the dress rehearsal. It's the only time we could take pictures or videos of the performance. We got there just in time to change Molly backstage. We saw the performance, then I went backstage again to change her into her next costume. When I got back there, she was crying. Apparently, the dark of the backstage area scared her. Long night.
When the dress rehearsal was over, Molly was convinced that she was finished. When I explained that we still had to go through with the actual recital, she looked at me like I was crazy. She wanted nothing to do with this "second performance." It took a bribe of ice cream and two TV shows to cajole her to go back for the recital. And, no, I'm not above bribery.
And, finally, FINALLY, the ibuprofen kicked in. Just in time for the performance. Check out my little star! Whoops, that didn't sound too Stage Mother-y, did it?
|Seriously, the cutest costumes ever.|
|Look at those angelic faces.|
|Charlotte was a good sport throughout the whole ordeal.|
|We did it!|
|Delighted by all the flowers she received.|
|The whole gang came out to cheer Molly on.|
|Amber, my partner in crime in the whole make-up/hair debacle earlier in the day.|
|Me with my girls in front of a Jayhawk.|
|A star and her proud Daddy.|