1m2aSandbox

Maddie had her ballet recital over the
weekend – her second one, since she did one last year with
the three-year-old class. Last year was Madeleine’s first
time on stage, as well as her first time away from Mommy while she
waited backstage, and both were big milestones for her. She was
quite nervous and didn’t think she’d make it through
the waiting (or even go on, for that matter) but afterwards she was
glowing and proud.


This year, Maddie considered herself an old pro at the recital
thing. She was quite excited all week, and checked with me
repeatedly to make sure I’d gotten everything – new
tights, hair net, and so forth. During a local consignment sale
this spring I’d stumbled across a Princess plastic storage
case, and I set it aside for Maddie’s recital. The night
before the show, Brian and I gave it to her, filled with the old
makeup I use for her, Kleenex, tic-tacs, hair nets, and everything
else a budding ballerina needs in her makeup case. Maddie fingered
through everything reverentially, and could barely sleep.

I mentioned about a month ago that I was
looking for ideas for car trip entertainment; Maddie and Cora have
birthdays close to each other and I wanted to get them some toys
and such we can use in our upcoming family vacation this summer.
Several of you responded with great ideas, and I’ve learned a
lot.

Cora’s had a rough week so far, and
my heart’s breaking for her. I’m afraid it’s one
of those bad congruences of lots of big events going on with a
significant change in routine, and I’m not sure how
we’ll we’re going to come out of this.


First and foremost, Cora’s been taking swim lessons. This may
not seem like a big life change, but it’s the first time
Cora’s taken instruction from anyone other than me.
She’s just begun tolerating babysitters (that she knows
REALLY well) for the last few months, but since she’s only
recently turned three, she’s never taken solo ballet or
gymnastics or soccer or whatever. So these sessions exhaust Cora,
mostly because she will play happily in the water until the
instructor turns to her – at which point she’ll begin
crying furiously.

The pool is officially open here in our
house, which means summer’s truly begun. And I have to
confess – the pool’s been open since early May, but
I’ve kept that fact hidden from Maddie because the
water’s too darn cold right now. But since the girls started
swim classes on Monday, I felt like the pool needed to open so we
could reinforce their lessons. So yesterday we hit the water.


Yes, the water was cold. Not too bad, but cold enough, trust me.
But what I’d forgotten was how much freakin’ gear a
trip to the pool requires in our household.

It was the best of times, it was the worst
of times.


All within the span of five minutes.


Yesterday was a packed day for Maddie and Cora: the first summer
swim lesson EARLY in the morning; several hours at several
different stores, including a mall, running errands with Mommy; a
truncated nap so we could have an afternoon play date at a
sprinkler park; and a picnic dinner in the park with friends for a
free outdoor concert.


Halfway through the day I began waffling on the evening concert;
both girls were looking tired, I was exhausted, and I feared a
colossal meltdown if we were out doing stimulating things at a
relatively late hour. But the girls perked up considerably and were
well-behaved for the afternoon play date, so I decided to push my
luck and hit the concert.

Yep, Maddie’s officially a grad now.
She’s got the whole summer to hang out with her friends, go
to the mall, and get ready for school in the fall.


Wait, didn’t I just describe my senior year summer?

Yep, I’ve apparently bought into the
entire preschool graduation, hook, line, and sinker. I’ve
spent the whole week in a funk, dreading the moment at 11 a.m.
today when she walks across the stage with her stupid fake diploma
and I try unsuccessfully not to dissolve into tears.


Honestly, who dreamt this thing up?


Check back tomorrow –I’m sure there will be some
syrupy, sappy, over-emotional, bad-Hallmark-card entry about the
beauty of the ceremony and the fleetingness of my child’s
babyhood.


Crabby Mommy on board. Stand back – she’s about to
blow.