I was up early this morning to write nearly 800 words about how inspired I am by the confidence of my children. I got all those thoughts onto the digital page and uploaded five out of six pictures. Then, Typepad crashed. Poof! The words disappeared.
The thing is, I write because the words are inside of me and they beg to escape. These words aren't in me any longer. I'm not sure where they are, but they aren't here. I wrote them.
So, I Ieave you with pictures. I only wish I had pictures of the boys. Even though I wasn't with them this weekend, they were very much a part of my confidence inspiration and they were there in the words...
Most of my "sewing" this week has been of the lace/sequin/tulle type. And it's not really sewing; it's more "rigging." When you measure and order costumes months in advance, there's a good chance lots of them won't fit at showtime. Time doesn't stand still and little girls grow (big girls do, too). I've seen lots of sizes and shapes in the same costumes in the past couple weeks and it has me thinking about those all too familiar themes. One of the reasons we made a dramatic change in studios last year was I was super concerned about emotional balance. We've found it here, I think. But, oh my! What a lot of work the whole wardrobe thing is:-) Well worth the tradeoff to be surrounded by healthy bodies of all shapes and sizes.
Karoline has organized our sewing box to take on the road. The girls have a dance competition in Baltimore this weekend. We're ready to go and I'm here to tell you that packing for dance is very different from packing for soccer:-). Quite an education I've gained this spring. Soccer was a good warmup; packing for dance is not for the faint of heart.
I've been promising Karoline I'd sew with her "for real"--promising for about three weeks. Sigh. Life is rocking and rolling here, folks. Sewing keeps getting shoved. As Karoline gets older, I notice more and more how "spirited" she is. She flits; she floats. For the most part, we've just smiled at her along the way. But as she gets older and, say, she is called to pay attention to a dance for a whole three minutes, we're noticing how easily distracted she is. We've been down this road before--I'm determined to apply what I've learned. Reading? I'm dusting off my favorite parenting book: Raising Your Spirited Child. I'm also doing a great deal of research on essential oils. We've always dabbled with these-- little lavender on the sheets, eucalyptus with Espom salts in the tub, tea tree oil for almost everything else. Now I'm seeing how essential oils might be helpful in lots of other ways, including focus and anxiety and hyperactivity.
Back to the sewing promise. Karoline was flitting all over the house this morning. There is a pre-competition pep rally in 7 hours and 13 minutes (who's counting, right?). She's so excited she cannot contain herself. Mike is working from home. He required complete quiet for a conference call. Um. "Karoline, how 'bout we go in the sewing room and close the door?" The only way to quiet her is to have her focused and on my lap. We made a cover for her new journal (inspired by the Junie B. Jones books). Just a few straight seams and she sighed happily, "Oh, I love that feel! Don't you love the way you feel when the sewing machine is humming and fabric is in your hands?"
Yes, my sweetheart, I do. And I'm grateful it calms us both.
What are you sewing and reading this week? I really do want to hear all about it!
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We've been hearing the sweet sounds of Tchaikovsky around here these days! It's Nutcracker time. After much thought and prayer, we switched dance schools last spring. This fall, for the first time, all four girls have danced together at the same studio. Mary Beth, Katie, and Karoline have been working hard on Nutcracker performances all fall. Some time in early November, Katie asked Mike to lend a hand. Apparently, no one had volunteered to take on the role of Godfather Drosselmeier. Much to everyone's surprise, Mike readily agreed. Patrick's girlfriend, Hilary, was cast as Clara, a role she danced beautifully. Somehow, she persuaded Paddy to dance be the Prince, a role he --ahem-- didn't "dance" at all;-). It was Karoline's first Nutcracker and she was every part the angel. Katie was the queen of the quick change--she danced several roles. And Mary Beth shone as Snow Queen. It was great fun to see them all on stage!
Every Saturday in December, Mary Beth and Katie have been entertaining guests at the Ritz-Carlton Nutcracker teas. Then, on Sundays, Mary Beth has been Cinderella at the Princess Teas. Mike, Katie, Karoline, Sarah and I were blessed to join our friends Megan and Katie to watch Mary Beth perform at a tea. I can honestly say it was the most enjoyable hour of dance I've ever experienced. Such fun!
There is one more performance left. Local peeps, the Princess Tea is coming to South Riding this Saturday at 3:00. There are very limited spaces available. Call (703) 327-9627 to make reservations. I hope we see you there.
(I love this picture. I'm pretty sure someone was telling Hilary how awesome she was and Paddy was saying, "What about me? I was awesome, too.")
(no braces)
(no teeth)
(note the nutcracker in the National Team jersey)
Please excuse the poor video quality. I was caught off guard and tried to capture a little bit of the Princess Tea. My sweet husband, The Director, is no doubt cringing at my production standards. Still, I keep playing this video over and over. My little girls can't get enough of it. When I remember Mary Beth at sixteen, this is the lovely image I hope comes to my mind.
Tomorrow begins the week of intensive dance camp at the Joan Izzo Academy of Dance. Mary Beth has been counting the days since the summer began. This is her place, a place she found to be utterly feminine and perfectly wonderful way back when she was the only girl with five brothers. Now, it is home away from home. She works hard to earn money to spend four evenings a week and every Saturday dancing in the company of some of her favorite people in the world.
Dance is a scary world for the mother of daughters. For all the beauty and grace on stage, the backstage scene be rather like a horror show: an obsession with body image, starvation model nutrition, girls being girls in the worst ways possible, long rehearsal nights and stressful demands for perfection. Joan Izzo keeps a watchful eye on all of that. And none of it is tolerated. She expects the girls to behave like daughters of God and she does everything possible to ensure that they do.
The secret to the difference at this studio is that the girls are taught from time they are very little that talent is a gift from God and dance is a way to glorify Him. The studio has served northern Virginia since 1996, providing young people with dance lessons by highly qualified dance instructors, who incidentally become friends and mentors of the girls as they grow. The school beautifully blends a joyful dance learning experience with an excellent technical foundation which nurtures exceptionally excellent dancers year after year. No matter the genre -- hip hop, ballet, jazz, tap, or dance as a worshipful experience--the girls are taught to do all for the Glory of God. That means that the music is respectful. And costumes are tasteful. The young dancers learn and grow in an environment of mutual respect and camaraderie.
If you live in the northern Virginia area and you are even vaguely considering dance lessons for your daughter, I urge you to give Mrs. Izzo a call. Prepare to chat for awhile--she is passionate about what she does and seeks to get to know each and every student and her family personally. And here's where the giveaway comes in. I promised Mrs. Izzo I'd get the word out. So, call her and let her know you read this. And when you've talked, whether you decide to enroll or not, come back and leave a comment letting me know you called. Comments will close at midnight on Monday, August 22. Everyone who has checked out the studio will be eligible for a drawing to win one of our favorite art and dance picture books, Degas and the Little Dancer :
Since this giveaway is limited to local folks with girls (or boys) who might want to dance, and since there are two prizes, chances are good you'll win.
Now, go call Ms. Joan at 703-327-8402 and come back and tell me all about it!
I left the dance school yesterday with all my instructions from Mary Beth's teacher, Miss Mary. I knew where to sew the elastic and where to sew the satin ribbons. I knew who to request at the dance store for the fitting (only Esther was to be entrusted with this job). And just in case I didn't know, as I was leaving, Miss Mary reminded me of one more thing, "She's not a little dancer any more. Now she's a big girl." Ah, yes. Why is it this day seemed so far off way back when she was twirling for Miss Missy in my dining room?
And so we arrived at The Cinnamon Tree. This was the dance store where I first purchased that outrageously expensive pink skirted leotard because I'd always wanted a little girl in a pink skirted leotard. At the time, Mary Beth was my only girl; a little pink angel in the midst of five brothers. On this day, I had another little girl by the hand and still another in my arms. We walked through door, led by Mary Beth, her hair still pulled up from dance class, her back straight and her stride the unmistakable walk of a ballerina. She sat for her fitting and I snapped pictures. I noticed that Mary Beth was so excited the both her hands and her feet shook.
And then, Esther held her hand and asked her to go up en pointe. Mary Beth did and I heard a collective gasp from the ladies in the shop. "You did that beautifully!" exclaimed Esther. I will never know if such exclamations come with the purchase price of one's first pointe shoes, but my little girl ballerina flushed with joy.
En pointe.
Two little girls took it all in, inspired once again by the truest heroine in their young lives. Katie will remember every detail of this day and she is likely to talk about it for the next six years until she claims a day like this as her own.She spent a good deal of time begging for a pink skirted leotard. Not this time, my girl. And Karoline. Karoline, who speaks very little English at this point, can do a pretty admirable passe, to go with her burre, her port de bras, and her arabesque. Karoline is a dancer in good company. And right now, she has in Mary Beth the best teacher in all the world.
In a time that doesn't seem so very long ago, our dear friend Keenan was a little girl, playing fashion diva.
Now, she's a grown up ballerina, an American at the Kirov, training in Russia. This is a rare, rare, rare occurrence. Keenan was invited there by the director himself who saw the incredible talent and the dedication that sets her apart from countless others dancers around the world. I hear it on good authority that the Russian dancers are not all that thrilled to have an American in their midst and that, among other "annoyances," there is no washer nor dryer and she's washing all her clothes by hand. She went with a stash of blessed salt and store of rosary beads. An American Catholic in St. Petersburg. We love this brave, beautiful girl. And she's in our constant prayers.
Today, my own fashion diva loves Keenan's hand-me-downs. (Courtney, if they were vintage when Keenan wore them, what are they now? And what will they be for Karoline? Well loved.)
And today, Katie takes her very first ballet lesson ever. She's already told the world she is going to grow up to be just like Keenan. Not so fast, my love. Please. Not so fast.
...that their hearts may be encouraged as they are knit together in love, to have all the riches of assured understanding and the knowledge of God's mystery, of Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures or wisdom and knowledge. ~Col 2:2
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