Dance and Pain

Happy Friday everyone. Today is our last dance performance and also the last day of school.  This week has been brutal and I am so glad it’s nearly over so I can sleep for like four days straight. I get to do that, right?

I the meantime I’m honored to guest post today over at Erin Margolin’s place.  I met Erin last year at Blissdom, and truth be told, am awestruck my her. She’s a brilliant writer, one of the kindest people I have ever met, also the mom of three stunning and smart little girls, and Erin herself is truly just gorgeous.  (I have a serious crush on her and if she lived closer I would make her my sister wife).  Erin is doing a series on her blog about our “writer’s roots” and she asked me to write about how I became a writer.

I would love for you to join me over there today. (Comments are closed here) Warning though – it’s a serious post from me today.

So to balance the serious and continue our dance moms recital week – I’ve copied and pasted a post below that a wrote three years ago after our dance recitals…

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Dear Psycho Dance Mom,

I am writing this letter to apologize for laughing hysterically in your face when you yelled at me in the dressing room of our daughter’s dance recital.

First it was your passive aggressive comments, and then your blatant bitchy yelling that got me. Really, I am sorry for laughing back at you.

At the time it was really all I could do.

Sure, I could’ve jumped on you all “8 month pregnant hormonal lady crazy” and taken your ass down and beaten you up and made you my bitch.

But no.

I just laughed. Because it was quite humorous.

Really, weren’t we all just in the same boat? Trying to get our hundreds of girls dressed and ready for the big recital. Aren’t we doing this because they are just so darn cute and so they can have some fun at the age of FOUR! Isn’t it really just for the kids to have fun? We are just pawns in this silly recital, child make-up game? Right? Why take it so seriously.

Now, I do realize that I laid my purse AND god forbid sat my daughter down exactly 5 inches from “YOUR” chair – and somehow this impeded on your day so much that you chose to get the vapors and yell at us.

But you know, after 3 days of listening to you yell at your precious FOUR YEAR OLDS about how they were doing nothing right, I actually appreciated you yelling at me and NOT THEM for once…and it kind of made me smile.

We all just try to do the best by our children – even when they are wearing blue eyeshadow. I understand that this whole four nights of dance craziness evidently stresses you out beyond repair. I feel your pain.

I promise not to laugh at you next year. I will bring the vodka.

amen.

xoxo,t

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