Category Archives: Mother-Daughter Blogs

Ballet Mom: Have I Gone Too Far?

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Vivien the sad ballerina

Just one look at my forlorn beauty has made me question the upcoming ballet and recitals. Should I have stopped at one class a week, or the two classes we take (“we” because I take her to them)? OR should I have gotten the cute outfits, but not had her perform in the recitals?

She always enjoyed the class. Well, she started when she was 22 months and the first few weeks she sat in my lap, but then she got into it. She takes one class on Monday with Miss Meredith and one on Wednesday with Miss Sophie. Now they both have recitals. Miss Meredith’s is tomorrow night. It’s more rehearsed.

I know I’m more hardcore than other ballet moms. The other day was a typical rehearsal, where they stared blankly at Miss Meredith and only followed a few steps. The moms all clapped and Vivien rushed into my arms, “I did it, I did it!”

I said, “You did do a lot of it, but we still need to work on the curtsies and the p-ks.” ( I can’t spell the French word, but that’s what it sounds like.) The other moms chuckled. I should be honest, right?

This picture is for her Miss Sophie dance recital. That class is a little looser, but the show will be at a big theatre and that costume cost $50, and tickets are $20 a piece. I bought $300 dollars worth for the family, the $20 DVD, and there have been photo sessions for the big night. Vivien was so excited at home to put the outfit on. But once we got to the studio she folded like a deck of cards. The teacher and I were making faces and saying, “Vivien, look here,” as she went more and more in on herself. I can’t blame her; I was the same way when as a child, I got to go on the set of “Medical Center” and meet Chad Everett. I was all excited till I was face-to-face with Chad. My face is down in that one, too.

This ballet thing seemed so cute, but is she too young to have expectations and goals? I don’t think so. And I’m going to do another go around on the photo session this weekend. Just in case I can get the happy ballerina picture for the hallway.

Photo credit: Al Unger

A Mom Stood Me Up

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A mom brain moment? I was on the receiving end of this one. Vivien and I were eagerly anticipating the company of our friends DJ and her daughter Charlie. We’d both get a girlfriend to hang with. I thought ahead and got a nice plate of Italian cold cuts, cheese, and fruit during the day. I had doctored up the pasta dish from last night (a night my chef husband Mark was home so it was good) and had pizza for the girls. I bought them both lollipops, even though I couldn’t remember if this was a mom who was weird about sugar. I uncorked the bottle of white and let Viv watch another Go Diego Go and waited. And waited.

Now, Mark works five nights a week so most nights I’m a single mom. Most gals aren’t as available as I am since they feel they need to spend the evenings with their man. Lucky for me DJ is a single mom. So we waited.

I was really burnt from work and the impending move. Boy, was it going to be nice to talk to an educated woman while my daughter ran around the apartment happy with her buddy. Vivien picked the plates she and Charlie would eat off of. She even set her little table. Finally after an hour of waiting I called. DJ thought we were getting together the next night. This wasn’t my brain fart. They were in their jammies and done for their night. She apologized. Vivien was upset so I put her on the phone with Charlie where she asked in her cute little voice, “What happened Charlie?” My friend emailed later and said, “tomorrow can mean whatever that mom thinks it means.” Which is kind of funny.

I went to go cut the pizza for Vivien and couldn’t find the pizza cutter. Feeling that this hidden utensil was one more ding to my day and remembering the bit about being a subversive mom I had read on City Mamma, I picked up the scissors and cut the pizza with it. A pizza cutter can mean whatever that mom thinks it means.

Hello Knuckles, My Old Friend

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Our snake Knuckles died today, and I am the only one that cares. Knuckles was my stepson Oliver’s snake; he bought him when he was a little boy. But since I’ve been in Oliver’s life, he hasn’t cared much for Knuckles.

Vivien and Knuckles the snake

A few years back, Knuckles shed his skin. Oliver looked at him and said, “This is the most exciting thing Knuckles has ever done.” Snakes don’t fetch or cuddle or lick. A nice Albino corn snake, Knuckles just wanted to be warm and hang out. Don’t we all.

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My Kid Looks Better Than I Do

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How many times have you felt like your kid looks a lot better than you do? Could be almost every day. But it really hit me today. Here she is wearing a great dress we got her in Paris, and I am dressed like a slob. I had exercised, but really it’s not an uncommon outfit for me to wear when I am not working.

Daphne in workout clothes, Vivien in a dress

Mommy clothes are either working out clothes, the horrendous mom jeans, or the flowing skirt/dress thing. We went to our Rock Toddler music class and a mommy friend was there in the flowing dress look. I think that is the way to go. Especially in the summer. Comfortable, no tushy showing, still feminine. ‘Cause sometimes I see moms running around in their faux workout clothes, and I am seeing outlines of a body that shouldn’t be showcased. I think, “Oh God, that is me!”

Partly it’s fashion by sleep deprivation, but now that I get more sleep I think I could pull it together. Do I really need to be this casual in order to parent? Do any of us? It feels like it, but maybe we all need a paradigm shift.