Even though Ballet was never my thing…didn’t mean that it wouldn’t be hers. However…it wasn’t. Ever since week 2…she’s been saying she didn’t like it.
“Ow want to go back to gyn-natics.”
I feel ya. I did too. But…we are ones to finish what we start. We are also ones to give something a chance. Well…sometimes, anyway. And since I had already dropped 1/4 of the recital fee and recital costume fee by week 2…we were in this thing. Plus…I couldn’t deny how cute the Ballet outfits were. They are waaaay cuter than the Gymnastics leos (they like to call them that in the business)…and don’t even get me started on the ridiculous colors that they are putting together on those things. They really are hideous. In fact…as much as I loved the sport back in the day…gymnastic leotards are probably my least favorite uniform in all possible sports to participate in. Plus…it takes, like 1/32 of a single yard of fabric to make one and they charge $40 for a child’s extra small. Yeah…that’s fair. I still love the sport. But if she stays in it…I may have to start designing leotards. I mean leos. But that’s beside the point.
So…here we are. It’s nearing Recital time. And before picture day…she refused to even put on the costume to show Chad and her bothers and sister. And furthermore…whenever the Recital was brought up…she would always just say,
“Ow not doing the wecital.”
That remains to be seen.
I can tell you one thing though…I was a fan of picture day.
Something about the soft pink, the light blonde hair, and the chocolate eyes just works. It’s a magical combination.
This one is my favorite…
We like to twirl.
Thank you to my mother for taking these. Usually I’m the one behind the camera. And I miss out on shots like these.
In other happenings…we have had quite a bit of Summer teasers. Evenings like this are…literally…a breath of fresh air. They keep us going. They produce smiles and laughter. They get moms in long maxi dresses at the plate…and running the bases. They get grandaddies pitching. They bring people of 3 generations together…happy…in our backyard. And that is just where I like to be.
We call her chicken little.
Happiness, indeed.