Days like yesterday only come around 3-4 times a year. It was a nothing Saturday. No weddings, no birthday parties, no traveling, no anything. The Tech game wasn't even on tv. I slept until almost 8 am, went and got donuts at Owen's cute pleading. Picked up a bit, but only a bit and eventually put on a bra. No shower. No makeup. It was a definately an old pair of jeans and tshirt kind of day. We spent most of the morning playing in the cul-de-sac with neighbors while Shaun painted the trim on our house. I heated up lunch and then headed over to B&N for some coffee and to let Owen chase Maddy up and down the aisles. Apparently a nothing Saturday also include NO NAP for Owen. More playing outside, an attempted nap for me and I ignored the laundry that needed to be hung. Leftovers for dinner and lots of college football. I did get a bit ancy at 8 and insisted on getting out for icecream. Owen crashed the second we got in the car and I crashed soon after getting home. Next Saturday is already filling up: 2 parties, a pumpkin patch and the Tech A&M game. But for one day -- I tried to soak in the boring and uneventfulness.
I do the math on my hand. This is my 5th end of the year dance recital and you think by now I’d know to remember to pack hair spray and snacks. Someone hands my daughter a bag of chips and I want to hug her. I want to tell her that I am not a total failure, that we did not lose the wristbands, we wore the right color tights and that I do at least have a few bobby pins in my pocket. I can not handle the crazy that is backstage. It is a whirlwind of squealing girls in sequins, lycra and tulle. Moms wielding curling hours and more eye makeup than the entire MAC counter, I start to sweat in my ponytail. I quickly look away as an entire row of dancers peel off EVERYTHING for a quick costume change. I was not made for this. I unashamedly let an eight-year-old I have never met teach me how to get my daughter’s hair in place and I make the fastest exit I can. We sit in the balcony. Where we have been for hours. Dance recital day is all consuming. Rehersal, hair and finding the right ti...
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