The Recital

We enrolled EB in a "dance" class on a whim, and she had her dance recital last weekend. Note, I put the word dance in quotes because it's more like watching the instructors herd cats). “Aww, how cute and wonderful”, you may be thinking. Yes, it was definitely cute – here are a couple of pictures of EB in her clown costume and her ballerina suit. Just look at her; she’s bursting with cuteness.

As for it being "wonderful"....well, not so much. Let me explain.

The Complex
First, a confession: I have a bit of inferior-mom complex. I wish I were more involved with EB’s school and activities, but it's hard for me to balance my relatively long work week with many of these activities, so K shuttles her to & fro about 95% of the time. A dad being more involved with their child than a mom – not very common down here.

Ok, back to the recital. As I walked into the costume area with EB, I felt at least four Alpha Moms quietly sizing me up; many have never met me before and didn’t know what to make of me. I was already stewing in my inferior-mom complex when, to my dismay I noticed that all of the recital girls was wearing pretty little dresses. EB, on the other hand, was wearing a pair of tattered shorts and an “I Love Detroit” t-shirt.



Me, to an Alpha Mom:    "Why are the girls wearing dresses?"
Alpha Mom:                    "For the award ceremony. Didn't you get the note?" Alpha Mom looks concerned.
Me:                                 "Ummm...excuse me for a minute."

I frantically dial K on my cell phone: "Oh my God, you HAVE to go get a dress for EB, NOW!"

K calmly tells me that he’ll just drive over to the closest retailer (read: Big Lots) to find EB an impromptu dress. That’s just the way he is; calm at things that send me flying off the handle.

Meanwhile, I was frantically trying to put EB's hair in a bun, and about 20 bobby pins and 20 minutes later, her little wisps of hair are still sticking out all over the place.

I look over at an Alpha Mom Offspring--her hair perfectly piled into a bun, gently surrounded by tiny little rose buds. I swear I saw the Alpha Mom Offspring give a sidelong glance to the other Alpha Mom Offsprings. The gig is up; they’ve got Alpha Moms. EB does not.

Cost…Yikes.

• A collection of raffle tickets that we did not bother selling to our friends (you're welcome) = $100
• EB’s costumes = $150
• The opportunity to watch the bundle of cuteness on stage….I guess that would make it $350?

Pre-Teen Gyrating Dancers...Double Yikes.
Somewhere in between EB’s act and tap-dance routines, a few pre-teen dancers skimped up the stage. They were wearing outfits that barely covered their still existent baby fat, dancing to a song with questionable lyrics and gyrating in a way that would’ve made the Fly Girls blush. I felt like the dad from the movie Little Miss Sunshine, gawking at the inappropriateness.

So there you have it: my confessions of being an inferior, overly frugal, prudish mom that agonizes over an experience that most normal moms cherish. My solution: next year, I will enroll EB in soccer instead.