I think Colette was a little overwhelmed at first; I was supposed to drop her with the "stage mom" and then go to my seat, while the (saintly, patient) stage mom shepherded the girls from backstage to their performance - about 30 minutes into the show. Colette didn't want me to leave at first, but after a few gummy bears, she was OK.
|The Duckies, All Lined Up - Thank You to Stage Mom Kelly P!|
And she danced her little heart out, front and center - even Sylvie could see her red-headed sister from five miles away where we perched in the mezzanine seating.
PVT was especially impressed with his daughter's performance in front of the lights and multitudes. When I asked him if he had gone to his sister's dance recitals as a kid, he gave me a look: "She's deaf. She didn't dance. She couldn't have heard the music."
Here's to many more years of feathers, tutus and all that nonsense. Isn't it great?
Yesterday I started having some really intense contractions. They were erratic, but wow - when they came they were WHOPPERS. So I did what any 38-year old mother of five would do when she suspects the baby might not wait much longer: I called my MOMMY. Yes, I did - and luckily she is now coming to our rescue a few days early. Today I felt a little better, so I probably summoned her here early just to wait around for a jillion days. Ah, well. At least my mental state will be much improved!
I had heard vaguely that there's an Olympics this year - summer? London? Right. I hadn't really paid much attention, until I got this in the mail:
OK, Mr. Ryan Lochte, I'm paying attention now!