Today’s adventure took me to a holiday dance recital. When one of your grand babies is dancing on stage FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME, you give up the chance to sleep in on a chilly, foggy Saturday morning. Okay I did hit the snooze button. Twice. But I made it and my favorite ballerina girl was thrilled!
And this is where the retired Dance Mom observes that dance recitals are universally the same…in EVERY way…good, bad, chaotic, crazy, rude, ridiculous, wonderful and pretty much every other adjective. The best way that they are the same is when you watch the one you are there for take the stage.
And as our ballerina took to the stage, the Mima-razzi was almost ready.
Which one is her?
She’s on the end, right there.
On the end right there?
And so I captured more than a dozen shots in quick succession of…someone else’s little ballerina with strawberry-blonde hair and porcelain skin. I realized that just as they finished and exited stage right.
She’s the one behind the tall ballerina.
I’m blaming my daughter and not my old lady eyes. But I am thanking her for this video.
You guys!!!! Isn’t she the sweetest thing??!!
I hope she will some day recall this once upon a December day and smile. I know that I will.
I swept up my broke, shattered nurse and finished decorating the new Big Top with most of our Christmas Crazy and focused on that which is good.
It’s another day. Some problems remain…and, no lie, seem to be getting exponentially worse and worse. It’s going to be a long four years and I might be saying that often and you all might get tired of that real quick.
Remember the last eight years of our Ultra Right Wing, Tea Party friends and that racist relative of ours and their daily social media postings?
But today is definitely another day and I am happily listening to the Hamilton Mixtape on loop and focusing on good…and my own deep personal yearning for improvement.
Today I have been suffering through an eye twitchy kind of headache. I’m sure the coffee house barista was concerned as he asked me twice if I wanted decaf.
No, I need my caffeine, dammit!
I am fairly confident that I did not say that out loud. I mean, my latte was just as delicious as ever and barista-guy wished me a wonderful day as he always does.
I’m trying to imagine that the ridiculousness of that rambling stream of consciousness I watched about the saving of Carrier, Mexico, someone’s son and the pride the unseen someone must be feeling, along with walls being built— walls with doors might have brought this on.
Better yet, I am telling myself it is the absurdity of the school calling me AND emailing me in order to inform me that my son’s illness is not an excused absence only to apologize when I questioned their notification because since when is it a bad thing to keep a sick, feverish child home from school?! Short staffing is the reason for marking Daniel’s absence unexcused after receiving my message on the attendance line as to why he would not be in school. What?! That’s the attendance clerk’s story—and perhaps a contributing factor to the eye twitching throbbing.
It could also have been brought on by the sleep deprivation that is night shift nurse life and caring for your sick child.
But then there was this.
A 26 year old treasure gifted to me shortly after I received my RN shattered—and what put me over the edge today.
Gawd I hope that this isn’t a metaphor of what is to come this final month and holiday season.
I’m just going to sit in this quiet corner and focus on the pretty, pretty lights. The lights are good. It’s warm. It’s bright. The light will heal that which is broke and, hopefully, the eye twitchy headache.
Can’t lie. November I am so glad to see you gone. Sure, we had some moments; but all in all, November you were much too harsh.
Every time someone suggests that I just need to get over it and accept that that man and the ilk he has surrounded himself with will be leading our country I will gladly pull up their timeline over the last EIGHT YEARS on social media. Twenty-three days later and it just feels all the more frightening to imagine that this is really real.
Twenty-three really is lovely!
So is five.
Still November, you were mostly awful. I will say goodbye choosing to focus on the brief moments of good rather than all the gray haired times that you have wrought.
Wind warns November’s done with.
The blown leaves make bat-shapes,
Web-winged and furious.
~ Sylvia Plath
This week in Epic Mom Fails, I sent my kid to school sick. Me, trying not to feed and encourage the Man-Cold Beast, assures him the occasional, dry cough over the holiday weekend is just allergies and he is fine…and he believes me! So off to school he goes Monday morning and the only thing I feel guilty about at the drop-off is the fact that it is 48° and he is wearing basketball shorts. That cough is just allergies.
Monday afternoon pick-up he is flushed, feverish and that cough is wheezy and rattly and, he reports, has been bugging him ALL DAY.
Why didn’t you come to the office and ask to go home?
You told me that it was allergies.
Epic. Mom. Fail.
And as I beat myself up with all the mom-guilt while we wait to see the pediatrician, he takes my hand and tells me that he hasn’t been this sick since he was in third grade. Actually the last time he was this sick, he was in sixth grade. But looking at that face I don’t have the heart to correct him. Plus I am trying to not to feed the Man-Cold Beast.
Those allergies are actually a raging sinus infection and bronchitis. My I-Am-A-Healthcare-Professional took a serious hit this afternoon.
It’s colds and flu season, y’all. get your flu shots and wash your hands early and often.