Happy Feet

I have a dent in my forehead.

It's only noticeable when I raise my eyebrows, and if I'm raising my eyebrows at you there is probably too much going on to notice an imperfection in my scull. I received it as a consolidation prize for walking / falling into the corner of the dishwasher when I was 3 years old. Shortly after that incident my mom signed me up for dance classes.

I will admit those classes served me well. I am a klutz to the extreme. I tend to look down when I'm walking to avoid tripping. The 10 years of tap-jazz-ballet-pointe, has spared me from a lot of injury that could have been much, much worse.

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Case in point:

Clare's new hobby is throwing my cookbooks on the floor.

I will admit they are very colorful, ideally located at toddler height and ripe for tossing, so I can't really blame her. On Sunday night, I didn't immediately clean up her thrown book pile. I let it sit until after dinner. Grace was playing on the floor and I was carrying Clare down the single step to our slightly sunken family room. The books lay in our path just on the other side of that step. I was looking down at them. Grace called my name, and suddenly I was no longer looking down at them.

And I stepped on a banana peel book. One foot in motion on the sunken, wooden floored book and one foot stationary on the tile above. While holding a writhing 20lb child.

Was my thunk loud? Yes.
Am I injured? Yes.
Did I have enough grace not to drop the baby? YES!

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And that, combined with her incessent begging lately, is the reason why Gracie will also be starting to dance classes on Tuesday.

The class is 20 minutes of tap, followed by 20 minutes of ballet, followed by 15 minutes of creative movement where I assume they just let the kids run around in circles and do the alligator on the floor. Her shoes came yesterday. A full test run was required.

Fully outfitted in tights, leotard and ballet slippers, she jumped into her daddy's arms for an impromptu Swan Lake-esque lift.

She then asked me how she actually does ballet, and I showed my little girl how to put her arms and feet into first and second position, complete with pliés.

Ahhhhh.

OK, maybe her enrollment in these classes are as much for me as they are her.

Shooting Stars

Gracie’s birthday – or the party on Sunday anyway – passed with a blur.

Literally.

We rented one of the carpet covered warehouse spaces filled with moon-bounces and assorted inflatable’s. Children flew from every corner and off every surface. Which is why, sometimes, they failed to bounce again without a brief interlude of tears.

See. Flying!

There is not a single picture that the party that is in focus.


OK - so this one is in focus- and it's climbing, not flying - but there was death defying tumbles (or belly slides) from the top rungs back to the base.

Even the birthday cake pictures are out of focus. Well, not the picture of the birthday cake itself. That is quite clear.

(Obviously)
And my Curious George efforts were very well received- only to be outdone by the birthday cupcakes that I made for school on Tuesday.

Never before has my baking received so many complements. I’m more of a savories chef due to my lack of belief in pesky things like measuring spoons / cups / and directions in general. Thank you Martha Stewart for the chocolate chip cupcakes with chocolate chip frosting recipe.