when the bee stings

As far as I can recall, I have only been stung by a bee twice in my lifetime. Am I lucky? I don’t know. I don’t really care. The first time was enough for me. I was 7 years old. That little fucker came out of nowhere and stung me for no reason other than to sting me. Really. I was minding my own business walking home from school with my little brother and my 1st grade best friend, Kerry Klower when that bee flew out of a bush as I walked past right into my arm which it stung. Stupid suicidal bee! It hurt. It hurt so bad. I’m sure some of the pain was also because my little brother was screaming then laughing hysterically along with my friend as I stood there frozen letting that stupid bee end it’s life causing me such extreme pain. Kerry’s mother digging the stinger out only added to the pain. Remember I was 7. But I was a smart 7 year old because I resolved to avoid bees at all costs. And I did until I was in my 40s and again literally ran into a bee while I was running. That one hurt too. Stupid suicidal bee!

Sitting in my car in the school pickup queue yesterday afternoon the last thing I planned on was running into a bee. No. I was re-reading Nicholas and Alexandra, which I read years ago when I was in junior high, while enjoying some iced green tea, a Macklemore and Ryan Lewis playlist, and the hot, 90° breezes blowing through the open windows of the mom-car. Suddenly…bzzzzz…


This huge bee flew right into the car and was buzzing like crazy around my head…my face.


Screaming, I swatted it hard back out of the car and proceeded to roll all the windows up at once. Of course that only served to piss off the suicidal little buzzer as it began to hurtle itself against the closed window of my car. I’m sure no one else in the pickup line saw the bee when I consider the way that people were staring at me like I was off my meds or something. I wanted to roll down the window and yell out, “OMG! Did you see that crazy, giant bee! He came right at me!!” But that would have meant that I would have to roll down the window and that crazy, buzzing fucker was still trying to somehow get into the car banging up against the window of my car. Let the other parents continue to think I’m crazy. I am not getting stung again…not today!

Did I tell you that it was 90° outside? It got a helluva lot hotter in the closed up mom car that was protecting me from the suicidal, crazed bee. So I start up the car and turn on the AC because I wasn’t about to die from heat exposure waiting for Daniel. He still is one of the last kids to come out to the pickup because he must say goodbye to each and every one of his teachers, present and former and all the yard duty workers before he leaves school. God only knows how long I would be waiting and it seemed that that crazy bee wasn’t going anywhere as it still was repeatedly flying up against my window. Eventually the crazy bee left as kids began to come running out of the school…possibly to look for another victim…who knows. He was gone; that’s all I cared about, I thought to myself as Daniel climbed into the now cool car.

Ahhh! Air conditioning! Thanks Mom!! It’s so hot outside. This is perfect.

Lucky for you a bee was trying to get into the car otherwise I wouldn’t have had the AC on.“, I tell Daniel as I start to drive down the street.

You mean this one?


:::hysterical laughing:::

I got you, Mom.

Oh my god, Son!

:::more hysterical laughter:::

the inconvenience of awesome

Aw, growth spurts! So much fun…said no parent who JUST bought their kid those out-grown athletic shoes or three pairs of must-have skinny jeans ever.

When I was a girl I discovered just how awful growth spurts could be as in Mommy-Dearest just bought me those shoes or those pants or just let out the hem of those dresses and pantsuits (we wore pantsuits back in the day, don’t judge) with no more material left to hem. She’d be frustrated and angry that I was growing like a weed and I would feel bad because I clearly should have better control of this growing thing…at least that was my perspective as a 12 year old kid not understanding the inconvenience of your kid growing like a weed when there are bills to pay and groceries to buy to feed your ravenous, growing weed.

Then I became a mother; a mother of kids that grew and grew like weeds. Often growing like crazy at the most inconvenient of times like when I had bills to pay or groceries to buy to feed those ravenous little weeds of mine.

I could not seem to keep Zoë in jeans that were soon too small or impossibly too short literally a month after I bought them. And replacing Jodie’s split sole, black tap shoes that were scarcely worn for only two dance competitions really sucked sometimes as did emergency alterations of custom made costumes that were custom made to allow for grow room.  I mean…how rude…how inconvenient…these kids are growing much too fast!

And then I understood.


So now that Spring has really sprung, Daniel is ready to break out the shorts. But the shorts are much, much too small. Two sizes too small. Shorts he has worn for the last two years of Spring and Summer…perhaps more. Shorts that are clearly much, much too small.

Oh happy day!!!

Human growth hormones, I love you so much…except for the fact that this is a helluva time for the kid to have outgrown his clothes because there are bills to pay…too many bills…and these kids seem to be hungry all the time…especially that kid who is finally GROWING!!!

So inconvenient but so freaking awesome!!!

Don’t worry, the mom of the 8 year old who apparently is wearing shorts two sizes bigger than Daniel’s new shorts tempered my excitement and frustration by pointing out the fact that her 8 year old is two sizes bigger than my 12 year old….as moms of kids who are not growth hormone deficient do.


Us moms of kids well below the growth curve their entire life, with non-functioning pituitary glands, love to hear about the burden of your overgrown child. It’s so…encouraging. Thanks.

Still, it is pretty damn awesome to pack away forever the shorts your son has worn every Spring, Summer and Fall season since second grade as his fifth grade year is winding down because this is normal. This is what “normal” parents do with their kids as they grow. This is just more “normal” for us to celebrate as parents of this mighty, former micro-preemie of ours, as parents of micro-preemies do…celebrating the normal.

So damn awesome!

Now to figure out what Peter to rob to pay Paul for the new shorts, the shorts that fit. Hey, at least they were on sale!



promping v. 2014

If it’s Spring then it is time to promp again here under the Big Top. Such is the life of raising a family of five circus clowns growing up much, much too fast. Actually this will be the last promping time for awhile. I imagine that when Daniel is old enough and if he chooses to go to prom that it won’t be such a big deal as it is now…and truthfully my girls are much, much more low maintenance than some peers…thank goodness. Still, I won’t lie, I do live a little bit vicariously through my girls’ proms because that wasn’t one of those things I got to share with my Mommy Dearest even if I did have a boyfriend through high school…that dang “no-dancing-because-it-is-a-sin” thing that he and his family ascribed to.

Oh well.

But this year’s promping is again all about Jodie…her Senior Prom!

There was the dress shopping.

It MUST be a burden to be a hanger that every single dress one tries on looks absolutely perfect. I’m going to keep telling myself that. These were part of her top 4. Wait for it…the winner is coming.

But horrors! A monkey wrench in all the promping.

A tumbling mishap at dance earlier this week which she tried to tough it out until yesterday when she could scarcely lift her arm. That could be a problem. Xrays ruled out a broken clavicle but it was determined to be a sprain of ligaments connecting her clavicle to her shoulder joint so the good doctor recommended no dancing for a week and to wear a sling to keep her arm in a neutral position.

I know, first world problems.

Still, we pressed onward because it is promping time.

Who else would be doing hair and makeup besides big sister? Really?


Actually this is the only picture with the sling. We made a deal and yes, against medical advice, she went sling-less to the prom promising to be careful. I’m not worried. Her shoulder and collar bone are quite sore still and she has limited range of motion so there won’t be any throwing her hands up in the air because she can’t. Plus next weekend is a big dance competition so with the exception of tonight, she is motivated to follow doctor’s orders. Besides, this dress…

…with a sling?


Aren’t they cute?

They’re just friends which is okay because promping is so much more fun with friends.




nobody died but we did go to heaven

How many times since last week have you clicked over to here and found nothing new.



I’m sorry.

I could say that nothing much has been going on here under the Big Top but no, that isn’t true. I mean, large family equals there is ALWAYS something going on in this circus of mine. But honestly, how exciting and entertaining can blurry pictures and tales of Daniel discovering over Spring Break that there is a LEGO STORE that sells NOTHING BUT LEGOS just an hour’s drive from here. Actually it was very exciting…heart-racing exciting and the cherry on top was when the store clerk told Daniel that the cool thing about Legos is you can still play with them when you’re an old guy like him at 25 and get a cool job in the Lego Store.

Yes, my darling boy pretty much had died and gone to Lego Heaven.

Right before we entered the satellite of the Lego Mother Ship is the only photo I managed to get. Yes, another selfie.

fresh taps

Only a dancer can appreciate how beautiful a brand new pair of tap shoes are fresh out of the box.

Well, the parent of a dancer can appreciate it too…after she is done grousing about what a pain in the butt it has suddenly become to find this certain type of black jazz flexed sole tap shoes…especially for children with tiny, narrow feet.

But that’s another story.

I think that this just might be the last pair of tap shoes that I bought for Jodie.


I warned y’all that this will likely be a season of lasts.


We shall see.

The first competition of the season went fairly well. Yes, there was a little drama, a lot of stress, hugs, kisses and a few tears but up on that stage our Dance Stars shined.

And the Dance Mom/Mima of these two stars couldn’t ask for anything more.

Now if we could just get over our after-competition-hangover with a little lost-hour-thank-you-Daylight-Savings stirred in for good measure. Thank goodness for Spring Break and staycation!