6 posts tagged “dancing”
Well, it's that time of year again. Parents across the country are gearing up and getting ready for ... Dance Recital Season! Whooo hooo!
Blehhhhhh. If you remember from last year, this whole situation kind of freaks me out. The kids are all so young, and there is so much hype. And it is all so expensive!
This year, when I signed Maggie up for her beginners dance class, I made sure NOT to send her to the hoity toity dance studio. NO! I signed her up for good old Fremont Rec. classes. Thinking, you know, "it's just a county gym class, there won't be a recital. That would be too elitist." WRONG!!!! I was so wrong. So very very very wrong. In fact, through the Fremont Rec. classes, there is not just one recital, but TWO! Oh my God -- a whole weekend of this craziness!
This dance class is made up of 4-6 year olds. Maggie is on the younger end. But she is a little trouper. The dance that they chose is not ballet (her favorite part of the class) but instead it is tap. And it is a really complicated routine. I still couldn't tell you all the moves she is supposed to learn. Let me tell you, a room full of twenty little girls between the ages of 4 and 6 in tap shoes is not a room that you ever want to be in. Especially if the dance is to the song "Witch Doctor" (you know the one..."I told the witch doctor I was in love with you -- bum bum bum bum.".) Yeah -- that song gets really old, really fast. But wait, there's more! Not only is their little tap dance number to the song "Witch Doctor", but it is also....sung by... The Chipmunks! What concentric circle of Hell have I found myself in?
And just to seal the deal, she got her crazy expensive dance costume last week. SO tacky! (of course, she absolutely loves it...) I swear, the thing looks like Madonna mixed with Minnie Mouse on crack. Totally 80s.
The first recital is on Friday the 30th. The second one is on Saturday the 31st. Two days of hours and hours of intermission-less dance routines. All of us sitting there, just waiting for the three minutes that our kids will be on stage. Pray for me. I will record the whole sordid affair. (okay, not the WHOLE thing, just her performance. I'm not cruel.) I will post it here, and I will force ALL of you to suffer with me! Mwah hah hah!
Yeah, that's me -- a "stay at home" mom. Or if you are internet savvy, you can just call me a SAH mom. I sure never thought I would be in this position. I always figured I would have a job. Just like my mom did. It worked for our family. I don't think I was scarred. In fact, I think it was good for me. To see how my mom and dad worked it out. How they figured out the childcare, the cleaning, the cooking, all of that household stuff. They were pretty 50/50 from what I remember. And I wasn't neglected, not at all. Of course, they had jobs as public school teachers, so that helped, of course. We pretty much went to and got back from school/work at the same time. But still. I must say that I think they handled the whole thing very well. I always thought I would do that, too.
But I don't. I don't have a paying job. I stay home with Maggie. Because Kevin's Software Engineer Job makes enough for us to live comfortably. And I don't need to go get a job at the moment, because whatever job I could get (ie teaching )-- wouldn't make much more than it would cost to put Maggie in day care. Also, Kevin is at work late so often (or in Tokyo for weeks at a time) that having a full time job would be next to impossible these days. So. I am home. And I love it. I really do. Thank God! If I were coming from a high powered lawyer job, or some sort of job that required all kind of adult interaction, and then got thrown into a stay at home situation 24 hours a day, 7 days a week -- I would maybe lose my mind. No kidding. But I came from nannying. No big change.
Only....well... the kids I nannied for were never so insistant that I watch them put on extended shows and imagination games all day. Or maybe, with three kids, I didn't have time to do that. Or perhaps, with three kids, they entertained each other, and didn't have as much need of my undivided show watching attention. I don't know, though. Maggie's love of performing and dressing up, and playing with her imaginary friends, it blows me away sometimes. It is just, so, elaborate! And sustained.
In answer to that question, "what does a stay at home mother do all day?" -- let me tell you. Or no, better yet, let me SHOW you. Pull up a chair. Stay a while. I'll make popcorn. Maybe we will be able to have some hushed, stolen moments of grown up conversation while Maggie is busy with her costume change. Please. I need some adult company. And maybe a bathroom break.
When she is not performing on the coffee table, she likes to dress up and be various princesses. Here is her take on Ariel. Not quite as tuneful as that famous singing fish, but whatever, she's three years old:
It is over. Sweet Jesus and Hallelujah, it is over. I wasn't sure if we would survive Maggie's dance recital this past Saturday. But we did it. Three hours long -- filled with toddlers in ridiculous (and ridiculously overpriced) costumes, bad ballet, even worse tap, and lots of adults holding their breath while their children stumbled through their routines.
35 different acts, people! 35. And no intermission.
Maggie seemed totally and completely unfazed. There must have been 1,000 people in the audience. I am not exaggerating. There were 300 kids performing, after all. And all of them had parents, siblings, grandparents (thank you Gramy and Grampy) and friends out there in the audience. The recital was held at the local college auditorium. We had a full on dress rehearsal on Thursday, and then the real deal on Saturday. There was a six page booklet for parents informing them how to prepare for this thing! Six pages. Oh my God! Is it any wonder that I was getting a little anxious?! Here were a few pointers from the booklet:
1) How to wear her hair (hot rollered, sprayed within an inch of its life and put up in a ponytail on top of her head)
2) How to put on her makeup (don't forget, the lights really wash a girl out! The more make up the better! If she looks like a tiny little prostitute, you have done it just right!)
3) How to capture your little one's special day (NO camera or videos of any kind at the performance. This is strictly prohibited. But not to worry! Our studio can sell you a video of the performance for a mere $30!)
Maggie's group was number 25 on the docket. They performed their dance to a song entitled "Baby Take a Bow". They were right after a line up of four little girls in bright red tutus dancing to "Hot Hot Hot" The girls had little red sequin hats. They were very cute. And very bad. So bad, that one of the girls actually froze up and couldn't move at all. Thereby stopping the other three girls as they tried to move her from her coma like stance. Eventually the teacher had to go out on the stage and direct them. I figured that Maggie's group HAD to do better than that!
And so they did....
Maggie is 4th from the left. Right next to the really tall girl. The one who knows all the dance steps. Maggie? She is, well, sadly, she is the weakest link. Sigh. But you know what? She had a blast. She loved being up there. She didn't care (or notice) that she didn't know most of the steps. She didn't concern herself about any of the stuff that I was nervously worrying about down in the audience. She had so much fun. And when they took their final bow up there, she grinned and grinned. So. That is what it is all about. Right?
I am a little concerned about my tendencies toward becoming a freaky stage parent. A parent like Brooke Shield's mom. Or maybe Macaulay Culkin's creepy dad. What about Jessica Simpson's whacked out father or Drew Barrymore's druggie mom? Oh my God. But sometimes Maggie just loves to perform. Really. Swear to God. I don't force her. Ask anybody. And it cracks me up to watch her. And so I prompt her to perform for others. I can't help it.
Last year I got a new camera/video camera and so it was easy to film her whenever she did something that made me laugh. Here she is, tottering around in her high heeled shoes and her fancy dress, singing her favorite song at the time, the ABCs:
Soon after, we got the Annie movie and the Annie soundtrack to go with it. And man, that girl loved it! She especially liked the sad songs -- Maybe and Tomorrow (when sung in the minor key). She would belt those out like nobody's business. So I decided to video that, too. But this second video, taken a few months after the first one, is mildly embarrassing. And I am not saying that Maggie is the one who should be embarrassed. No. I am the one who cringes when watching it. Because if you listen carefully, you can hear me singing the words under my breath. Prompting her. And directing her to take a "big bow" when obviously, she does not care to do so. Ahem.
I am a little frightened by this tendency of mine. Where did it come from? I am not a performing type person. Does this just happen when one becomes a mother? Is there any way to avoid it? Will Maggie end up in a "Little Miss Sunshine" situation? Eeeeeek.
She has a recital with her dance class coming up in June. I know all the words, all the steps.... and Maggie? ...Sadly, she does not. Instead, she likes to put her hands on her knees and waggle her bottom like a duck. Then she will look at me over her shoulder and ask expectantly, "what comes next, Mommy?" I am embarrassed to say that, in fact, I know exactly what comes next....
Hopefully I won't be forced to go out on the stage this summer and coach her during her performance. Ha ha . I jest. Sort of.
Well, I have written before about how much Maggie loves to dance. Here is another example of her "Moves". When ever she is feeling particularly inspired by the music, she goes and finds her "dancin' hat" She has had it since infancy and she is sort of outgrowing it...But she insists that she needs this particular hat to help her dance. I dunno where she came from. But she cracks me up.
Know what also cracks me up? This dancing she is doing! What the...? I think that Mr. Miyagi has been coming to our house on the sly and teaching Maggie some tricky steps. Watch your back, Karate Kid!
My dear, dear child loves to dance. God love her. She prances around the house all day, flapping ribbons and pointing her toes. She stops and does stretches and leans on chairs and says that she is "at the barre". Anything that is elegant or graceful is pronounced as "something that a ballerina would do".
This past Christmas, she heard a choir singing Christmas Carols on the tape player, and she stopped, held up her hand and said "listen, Mommy, listen to that beautiful music!" I stopped and listened to the singing and agreed that it was quite lovely. "I think that must be ballerinas singing" she mused. When I asked why, she assured me that only ballerinas could make such beautiful music.
When she was two, anytime music came on, she was guaranteed to dance. Any kind of music, she loved it. We enrolled her in a dance class on Saturday mornings, but it was painful for me, personally, because it was WAY too early in the morning. And it was a weekend, AND I had to participate. Basically, it was drippy kids' music turned up a billion decibels, while small, amped up toddlers careened around the gym. Of course, the children weren't actually following the music's exhortations to "hop like a bunny!" or "wiggle your backside". No, it was the parents, who were desperately trying by example to get their kids to follow the music's instructions.
And did I mention that it was early in the morning? On a weekend? No thanks.
When, mercifully, that class finally ended, I decided that she needed to be enrolled in a "movement" class. This class involved lots of waving of scarves and marching around to a CD that the teacher brought along. The movement class (or actually, I believe it was called "bouncin' babies" God help me) was pretty good. Maggie loved it. She was into it. She marched around like a champ.
Unfortunately, the class had a little too much emphasis on the "babies" in aforementioned name and not so much "bouncin'" Well, actually, there was plenty of bouncing on Maggie's part, but the other children were really young, and there was lots of crying and nose wiping that went on. At the end of the classes, all of our nerves were a bit frayed.
So I thought -- okay, she's ready for a real dance class. With big kids. She was close to three years old, and so I signed her up for the county recreation department's tap and ballet class. Luckily, I didn't go that extra mile and actually BUY the stupid shoes. Someone loaned me their old ones. I also did not spring for a leotard or tights. 'Cuz, come on! She's not even three! Off we went to the first day of class. I had my video camera ready to record all of those precious moments. Ha.
And lest you think I am exaggerating, I present exhibit B:
Not such a good experience. This is what the entire class was like. A whole hour of Maggie dancing to the beat of her very own, personal drummer. And me, sitting on the sidelines hissing "Maggie...psssst...Maggie! Follow the teacher!" And it didn't get any better with each new class. When I asked her what she thought of the class, she said "Ummmm, the teacher wants me to practice tapping, but I want to do my MOVES" Sigh. We did NOT finish that class to completion.
And now... We are enrolled in another dance class. (Hope springs eternal). And I am happy to report that Maggie loves it. She loves her teacher, she loves the music, she loves her whole ballet getup (which, of course, always includes a tutu of some sort) And in June, she will be in a dance recital. In front of a HUGE audience of hundreds at the local college. The beloved dance instructor -- Miss Jill -- has already selected the ( odious) costume, which looks like some sort of Little Miss Sunshine/Jon Benet Ramsey creation of cheap shiny turquoise satin and ruffly tulle and lace. And the song that they will be dancing to? Are you ready? Some gross, treakly broadway number called "I enjoy being a girl". The dance moves include pantomiming curling her eyelashes and flipping her hair while talking on the phone. I am NOT kidding. After all my ranting and raving about how I refuse to stereotype my daughter, and about how all that princess crap drives me crazy! And yet....Maggie is loving it. So, I shut my mouth and go along for the ride. What can I say? She loves to dance.
