The Recital

Even ballerinas get the blues.

But really…what a morning! Bailey had her first ever dance recital on Saturday and yes, I cried. No, I wasn’t overwhelmed with emotion watching my baby girl twirl on stage, I was devastated because I forgot a piece of her costume at home! After meticulously organizing, labeling, and pre-packing all of her costume pieces, the sequined pink tu-tu, (a ballerina’s crowning glory!) somehow fell out of the bag on our way to the car.

What’s a mom to do? Show time is in 15 minutes, but the sequined tu-tu is not required until the very end of the show. Yes, I could probably make the 25 mile round-trip journey in time…but I’d have to MISS 90% of the recital! Matt is working in Kentucky this month and I had carefully planned to film the recital for him. I felt completely helpless.

So I cried.

I cried as I decided to let her be the one tu-tu-less ballerina and slumped down in my auditorium seat, and I cried as I changed my mind, jumped out of that seat, ran all the way to my car and sped off toward home just as fast as my little Prius could take me.

I missed her tap dance – the one with the grass skirt and lei and impossibly cute maracas…but by golly, I was there for the ballet number and so was that sparkling pink tu-tu.

Apparently, however, this ill-fated tu-tu ensemble was increasingly uncomfortable for Bailey to wear, and by time the finale rolled around, my itchy girl was reduced to pitiful pouts.

Hmmm. A trophy provided a brief distraction from the misery.

When the show was finished, the tiny dancer was tired, staaaarving, and couldn’t shimmy out of that uncomfy costume fast enough.  (seriously, was 12 noon the best time they could come up with for a 2 hour recital for 3-year-olds??)

Photo ops be darned. Bailey was done.

After swapping some quick hugs with her adoring fans, we got the heck out of there and went straight for a little Sonic therapy.

(and some bonus big brother therapy, too)

What a difference some apple juice and a t-shirt makes!  I feel you, girl.

When we finally got home, I took advantage of her corn dog high and convinced her to costume up one last time.

Thanks, B, for humoring your mama.

Whew!  What a day.  What a Bailey.

I sure do love you, my ballerina princess, and I would drive a million miles for your tu-tu if I had to.

Nah, I’ll probably just start keeping a spare one in the trunk.