So, there’s a new little girl at Sadie’s school, and her name is (surprise) Sadie. Original Sadie does not care for this. At all. If you are FB friends with me (you poor soul), then you have already seen this GIF of how Sadie reacted to meeting her name twin on Monday morning, but I must re-post it here:
IN OTHER NEWS:
Working parents: do you remember what you used to do when you got home from work in the days before you had chirren? Because I do not. The weeknights these days are consumed by a very swiftly moving routine of get home-take off shoes-wash hands-get snack-make dinner-eat dinner-clean up kitchen-play with child-bathe child-dry child’s hair-brush child’s teeth-read child a book-put child to bed-do some adult shit-drink an adult drink-hey look it’s midnight-COLLAPSE and I simply cannot recall what it was like to come home and just…be there. With no pressing need to make dinner if we didn’t feel like it, and no real rush to do anything. What did we do back then? More importantly, why didn’t we just GO STRAIGHT THE FUCK TO BED upon arriving home because holy shit, that is what I feel like doing most evenings. Bleh.
I performed at this event last Friday night, and despite my ass being completely and totally kicked from performing two shows in one evening (after a full day at work), it was SUCH fun, and I am so totally thrilled that we have a place like Arcade in Pittsburgh. We should all laugh more, and Arcade is dedicated to making that happen. I support this.
In other performing news, Brad opens this show next weekend (!) and I start rehearsing for my show in two weeks (!!), at which point it will be mid-July and when the FUCK did that happen? I am already anxious about the fact that the days are getting incrementally shorter, btw.
Ballet days are back, and they are adorable.
FYI: I deserve a fucking medal for being able to manipulate her silky fine hair into those tiny side buns at 9am on a Saturday morning.
Sadie says she does not remember taking the class last year (although sometimes she will tell me she remembers specific things that I know happened last summer during her class), but she still enjoys her classes just as much, if not more. I could tell she was just a teensy bit nervous for her first class, but last weekend she pretty much bolted into class as soon as they opened the door, and she just beams with pride when she walks out to meet me in the hallway 45 minutes later. Yeah, this is the place that doesn’t let parents in the classes, which is fine, but the totally bogus part is that we can’t even get a PEEK of the cuteness occurring within whenever they close the blinds on the studio door. They left them open during the first week, though, and I snapped a few pictures like the embarrassing parent I am.
I have to tell you, though, that I find the whole atmosphere of the Saturday morning BALLET CLASS EXTRAVAGANZA pretty rattling. There are two kids’ classes that happen before Sadie’s begins at 9:30am, and then there’s the regular classes for older ballet students happening simultaneously – it’s an awful lot of human traffic for a relatively small hallway/lobby area, and the logistics of herding all those shorties in and out of class (they don’t have any time built in between classes for this) is pretty much a clusterfuck. The class itself is very orderly and happens in a GIANT studio and there seems to be little to no confusion within (except for the normal confusion of TEACHING BALLET TO FOUR-YEAR-OLDS), but the hallway is a mess of parents and siblings and other students and HOLY GOD, it stresses me out. I don’t mind (and even enjoy) the small talk with other parents…although sometimes I have a really self-aware moment where I panic a little because HOW DID I GET HERE? HOW AM I SOMEONE’S MOM WAITING IN THE HALLWAY?!
It goes without saying (so witness me saying it anyway) that I love Sadie and I love being her mom more than anything in the entire fucking universe, but sometimes it still feels weird to be known as a PARENT. Who allowed this to happen?
And how can I ever repay them?