Flowers, and no underwear

"Ma ma, don't forget to ask Papa and Gar to bring flowers for me." I heard that statement many times in the weeks preceding Isabella's ballet performance. It seemed that the most important part of the whole event would be getting flowers. My parents were all set for the special, post-performance flower delivery--so I had nothing to worry about there. What I did worry about, was whether or not Isabella would actually make it to the performance. She'd been an unhappy ballerina for months, and at one point I considered throwing in the towel and calling it quits. At that point I had to consider her reasons for disliking ballet, which were as follows: 

-It makes her sweaty.

-She's just a kid who wants to play. 

-It's too much work.

Well, I get it. She definitely is "a kid who just wants to play", and I am happy to let her play as much as possible, which is most of the day--I think I've figured out that she plays 60% of the day, spends 30% of her day eating (yeah, she eats a lot), and spends 10% of her day completing school work and/or extra curricular activities. I'd say that creates a pretty fabulous day for a five year old (six in a couple weeks!). But I'm all for facing the reality of life as we know it, and what makes life interesting, is all the things that are hard work and quite possibly, make us sweaty in the process. 

I was a little emotional as we got out of the car and were gearing up to make our way into the building for the performance. Isaac was passed out in his car seat, so I took a moment, there in the parking lot to look Isabella in the eye and tell her how proud I was of her. I told her that the reason I was proud, wasn't because she knew the dance, or because she was going to look beautiful on stage (which she did, of course), but I was proud of her for sticking with it. Even though it was hard work, and she often didn't want to go to ballet class, she stuck with it, and made it to the special day where she could share her hard work with the rest of us. She beamed, and I live for those moments. 

We practiced and practiced and practiced. Here is Sarah, helping the girls remember their dance moves. 

Though Charlotte was not part of the performance, she found a leotard in Isabella's room and joined in the practice session.

Performance day really wore out Isaac:

Fixing hair and make-up. Last year, the fabulous mom that I am, I forgot all about make-up, and was reminded several times this year that she needed lip gloss.

I turned around and found Isaac using binoculars...

Apparently, the second most exciting part of this whole event, was that she was not supposed to wear underwear. Who knew how thrilling that would be for a five year old? "Oh mom! It just feels so good not to have underwear on!"

Like I said, Isaac was passed out. From car seat, to what I call our homeless cart, this time it just so happens to have a trash bag slung across the top. This is a pretty accurate picture of what it looks like when we go to doctor's appointments: feeding bag, Isabella's book bag, and my purse/camera bag, and a bunch of crap stuffed in the far too small mesh part at the bottom.

I think the following pictures speak for themselves:

Lastly, my very best friend--not sure what I would do without her.

After the performance, Isabella looked up and said, "Do I get to take ballet next year?!" Much to my surprise, she was very happy when I said, "Yes, of course you will." She also told me that Papa, Gar, and Josh did a very good job picking out flowers, and as far as I know, she has been wearing underwear every day since then.