I had my piano recital on Tuesday, so that totally counted on the chain activities. December 4, 2012 is the day I became my mother. I had one thousand things to do, including getting dressed and changing diapers and putting kids in the car and getting cookies and programs and ETC. What was I doing fifteen minutes before I had to leave? Decorating cookies, of course! So, yeah. That happened. Brian was in charge of getting photos, so this is what we get:
Saturday was Bridget's very first dance recital! We got several flyers and even an email that we were supposed to pick up our tickets beforehand and if we didn't have tickets, we wouldn't be getting into the recital. The first time I thought about the fact that I needed tickets was five minutes before we were supposed to leave. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!!! I didn't want the grandparents to drive all that way to not be able to see the dance, so I called and uninvited them. :( We got there and of course they gave us Bridget's envelope with her four tickets in it. I understand they have to be hard-nosed, but those flyers were in all caps. I totally thought they were serious.
The flyer also had colors for her class to wear, but no specific costume. I laid out black leggings to go with the black leotard and red tutu. Bridget wore it for dress rehearsal on Friday, but she was wearing blue leggings for the performance. I took this picture and yet didn't notice the leggings were blue until we were running (in the snow storm) into the auditorium. My favorite was that the flyer said to have "rock and roll" hair. What does that mean? Messy? Big?
Bridget was also supposed to wear make-up. Some of the girls in her class have moms who have been waiting around for someone to ask them to put a lot of make-up on their sweet little girls. Yikes! Today a boy at church told Bridget she had a lot more freckles than he has. :)
It's always a let-down after the show. At least they gave her a package of Smarties to ease the pain. She was very cute performing. I don't know how you'd get 5 and 6 year-old girls to do the same dance at the same time, so my hat is off to her teacher, Miss Kirsta. The dance studio put on a good, organized show, too. I brought the kids home and we had macaroni and cheese for dinner. From a box. Again, what is wrong with me?