Dance Pictures

It's that exciting time of year again - Dance Recital time! For those of you who are new to the blog, Rebecca's dance school holds their annual recital every Father's Day. There are several recital portends every Spring. The first was this Sunday - the pictures! This year is a little different because Rebecca is in two routines, which means two costumes and two sets of pictures. In previous years, I've gone all out for her pictures - curling her hair and applying (as lightly as possible) the suggested makeup. Again, this year was a little different. Greg ended up driving to my brother-in-law's house in Maine Saturday night for men's night (translation - stay up late and drink lots of beer), and was not even awake, let alone anywhere near home, at Rebecca's first picture time of 10:30 AM. So that left me to get her ready and tend to Gregory, king of the terrible twos. Apparently my strengths do not include multi-tasking.

The morning was a blur of tap shoes and juice boxes (both of which I threw into a bag along with a bag of gold fish, the accessories to Rebecca's second costume, and a Curious George book). Trying to use the curling iron on Rebecca while Gregory was dive bombing me was a little scary, so we decided to go with the straight look (we were out of time anyway).

I packed the kids, the bag, Rebecca's 2nd costume and myself into the car and sped to the dance studio. We got there just in time for the first picture which went pretty smoothly. When that was done, I whisked her into the backroom and did a quick costume change, put her hair up, and stuck this feather and bow thing on her head. Gregory was being amazingly calm, playing with a race car he had brought along. I should of known he was just toying with me. During her second picture he decided his mission in life was to either get into the shot, or get through the studio front door into the parking lot. When I picked him up he did the whole arching body, "put me down!" routine. I dragged him into the waiting room and tried to distract him with a juice box and goldfish, both of which he threw on the floor before getting up and lunging for the picture room. By the time the girls were done, he was in full meltdown mode. Upon arriving home around noon, I called Greg to see how long I would have to endure this hell alone. Greg informed me he was still in Maine, playing a video game with my brother and brother-in-law. I suggested he stop said game and head south immediately. Of course by the time he got home, Gregory was in the middle of a three hour afternoon nap, and Greg joined him for the second half. At any rate, amid the morning chaos, I managed to snap a picture of Rebecca in her tumbling costume. Is my kid the coolest or what?