If They Could See Me Now.

We are wrapping up Remi's first year of dance.

Praise Jesus in the Heavens!!

I have never been so out of my element. In one years time I have purchased FOUR pairs of tights (though only two were needed), TWO pairs of ballet shoes (though only one was needed) and today - with only 24 hours before the recital - I will purchase my SECOND pair of tap shoes (only one was needed).

Why? You ask. Because I lost all the others. I know, I know, in reality she lost them. But she's four and I hate blaming things on a four year old. But c'mon people, how does she lose tights when tights are to remain on at all times. How?

Yesterday as the Dance Academy lined up across the stage for their opening number in rehearsal you could have heard a pin drop in that auditorium. The room was filled with moms who were dripping sweat from getting their little bundle of joy into a hot pink leopard outfit and matching leotard that was apparently made by a group of women in a foreign country who must have decided "hey, let's make this one with one thread, that way if it breaks the entire thing collapses."

So there we sat, wiping our foreheads and looking sheepishly around the room wondering if our child would be the only one with her hair hanging in her face, flip-flops on instead of tap shoes and her costume on inside out.

At least that's what I was thinking.

And to answer my own question, YES. I was the only mother there who forgot to pull her daughters hair out of her face, let her wear flip-flops instead of those lost tap shoes and apparently had put her outfit on inside out.

Within the first five minutes of the rehearsal I had heard
"Can Remi's mommy..."
"Someone help Remi
"Remi is not in the 15 year old dance troupe, someone get her to the right line..."
"Remi, please watch your teacher..."
"Does anyone know if Remi's mommy..."
"Hello! Remi's mommy! Are you here?"

Of course I was there. But I was sitting so still no one noticed me. Which is how I like it. Until they turned the lights on and several of them pointed me out.

Snitches.

I hate snitches. I'm gonna turn them in the next time I see them doing something wrong, I can tell you that. Of course I don't know what that will be - they all seem pretty put together and not at all dripping sweat like a South Carolina prison guard (unlike myself.)

So today is another rehearsal. Please pray it goes better than yesterday. For me. Not Remi. She never knew there was a problem in the world. She thought she was tremendous.

And then pray for the actual recital on Friday night. Pray that when it comes time for her to do a cartwheel she does one better than her mother, because of right now? Let's just say adopted or not - she is bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh. Her cartwheel looks more a slight limp and half a twirl. And you had also better pray that if they turn on the lights to see who in the world's daughter turns a cartwheel like that, that I can remain completely still.