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Archive for April, 2011

Happy Friday, Internet! Or Happy Royal Wedding Day, if that’s your thing. I do have to admit to being a closet pop culture enthusiast and I get that people care about royalty. They are pretty! And Royal! And CROWN JEWELS! I also admit to clicking on pictures to see what Kate’s dress looked like before I even opened my e-mail this morning and yes it was very pretty but if I read one more status update or comment about how this shit is every little girls’ dream then I am going to throw up all over you Internet. When I was a little girl I dreamt about being a writer. A veterinarian. A movie star. A doctor. Or maybe briefly turning into a cartoon to ride in the Mystery Machine or on Rainbow Brite’s horse. Just about the worst thing I could have possibly imagined was getting shoved into a lacy dress and made to stand next to a BOY with millions of people watching. Gross. Maybe that says a little bit too much about what kind of a kid {and adult!} I am, but so be it. I can’t handle girly romantic shit any better now than I could 20-25 year ago. And I certainly hope my daughter has bigger dreams than that. I’m all for tiara’s but she can institute those when she becomes Queen President of the Universe {VOTE ROWAN J GUNTERPANTS 2040!}.

*********

Now to the real point of this post:

Last year…

'Reading' The Garden to help the plants grow.

This year…

Actually reading. Amazing what a year can do.

Nevermind that there's only one measley little plant as spring is taking its sweet time arriving. Even still...

It growed!

Now hurry up and come spring, these little sunflowers will need company. Especially under my care as plants tend to be safer in numbers around me.

******

I almost forgot! Let me present to you this weeks desktop awesomeness, artfully crafted by Bill…

How long before Bill gets sick of using that picture of Keaton? My prediction: NEVER.

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You guys know that most of this month was taken up with what I’m pretty sure was bajillions of sequins. In the interest of two birds and one stone I will be posting nauseatingly cute Easter pictures to distract you from all I didn’t accomplish this month.

1. Learn the ins and outs of my new camera lens. I had an excuse all planned and set to go but I did finally put my new lens on the camera last weekend. I was so excited about getting this last Christmas but I had trouble getting non-fuzzy shots even in some of the auto settings. I chalked it up to my ridiculously shaky hands {thanks for those sweet genetics, dad} and even considered purchasing a tripod after the photography class I took last February where most of my photos turned out blurry {just with this lens, not my other two which have image stabilization}. I messed around some with it this weekend and was really happy with the results. I still have a lot to figure out with taking pictures in low lighting but I now feel pretty confident during the daylight hours.

2. Take a DSLR workshop online or through comm ed. I signed up for a another community ed class. It’s just an evening walking around our historic little town with a professional photographer as a guide to answer any questions and give us tips. I also just found out this same photographer is offering free guided photo sessions in a near-by state park so I’m excited to get out there and shoot. Like I’ve said before I think the biggest thing for me is to get out and practice and find ways to get inspired {chookooloonks is GREAT for this, if you don’t already read her and her photos are incredible.}

3. Run/walk/crawl a formal 5K. … And, it begins…

What were we even TALKING about? I just can't remember.

4. Make a decision about faith and which church is right for us. I’ve been dabbling in research the last few days. Thing is, is that I’m sort of dragging my feet on this until I find out what kind of priest our parish is assigned as of July 1st. Our super awesome, super liberal {again, for a priest} pastor is being pulled out of our parish by the archbishop {probably FOR being liberalish}. He {our priest} is not super happy, as our church is his home, his family, his work, his friends and support system, his whole life, wrapped up into one. He welcomes everyone and in turn so do the rest of the parishioners. He keeps things light. He tells a joke every mass before the final prayer, many of them hilarious and certainly not expected to come out of the mouth of a priest. He’s like a real live person instead of some supercilious talking head. During his Easter sermon he was re-visiting the gospel about Mary Magdalene coming to the tomb on the third day and that an angel came down and “scared the hell out of her”. He makes you laugh and he makes you think and based on the cult-like, pre-vatican II priests that the seminaries are kicking out now it doesn’t look good for us as members of the Catholic faith. And possibly not for the Christian faith. I just don’t believe there is one true religion and I have to reconcile that before I figure out our next step, until then I’ve been covering my bases by researching Evangelical Free, United Church of Christ, Buddhism and Hinduism. How’s that for ala carte religion?

5. Get a freaking haircut already you hippie. CHECK.

6. Drink water. OMFG EASTER EGGS!

7. Go on a debt diet from Jan-March. Look! Cute kids!

In a feather boa! Who cares about debt when you can look at this.

8. Find a workable routine to manage my free time during naps and preschool. SO! MUCH! CUTE!

and TANGEANT: I think Keaton's been hanging out with the DCFI too much as every picture I try to take of him lately turns out something like this. At this rate between the two of them our vacation pictures in July are going to be pretty awesome.

9. Say I love you more. I LOVE YOU, INTERNET! {Just practicing. This one’s going to be really hard for me.}

Look! A BABY! {Cheapshop FTW!}

10. Be a diaper-free household by June 30th. In my defense we did give this one a pretty good go this month. The biggest motivation being that Keaton no longer fits in our cloth diapers when they’re triple stuffed for night wetting {which he needs} and I’m a cheap, environmentally conscious asshole who doesn’t want to buy pull-ups as a long term solution. So we tried undies and he stayed dry 2 nights in a row! Yay! I would go up at around 11 or midnight to wake him up and take him potty and Bill would get up at three or four to do the same. Only… the third and fourth and fifth and sixth and seventh nights he wet his bed multiple times, many of them in the morning when he should have been able to get himself up and to the potty with no problem. I finally gave in and bought the EVIL pack of pull-ups, then explained to him that these were like undies, and that he was still expected to try and get up to use the bathroom, but they would catch the mess if he absolutely couldn’t. Well, turns out he’s no dummy and realized right away that pull-ups are just a way more comfy night diaper and HAHA SUCKERS, I WIN. So now my choices are to go back to shoving him in cloth which are very uncomfortable for him or buying pull-ups for the foreseeable future and WAHH BOTH THESE THINGS SUCK.

11. Eat more raw food every day. So I suck at this now, but I did join our neighborhood farm CSA so weekly starting in June we will be the proud recipients of a buttload of locally, organically grown hippie food.

12. Complete a 7 day cleanse. DONE. Although after Easter I could certainly stand to do this again.

13. Say ‘thank you’ more often. I’ve done pretty good with this one so I’ll THANK YOU to shut up, Internet.

14. Knit something.

Knitting is for hippies anyway and I'm totally not a...oh, right. Nevermind.

15. Decorate this damn place already. I’m TERRIBLE at colors and putting rooms together. Someone offer to help me and I promise I’ll number 13 your ass. We need to paint so I probably plan to take care of that WHAT’S THIS? A PICTURE?

16. Be a nuk-free household by February 28th. DONE

17. Read for the love of God. Find a better balance of fiction and non-fiction. My reading time was split between sequins and Fringe episodes but honestly I think it also had something to do with the book I was reading. I really wanted to love The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, but by the 20th page all I could think about was punching her in the face. She dedicated a year out of her admittedly already happy life to find more happiness which in theory is a pretty great thing. After working in retail during high school and college I can tell you that there are A SHIT TON of people out there who should focus some of their energy on being a more happy person instead of taking out their frustrations on people who are trying to ring up there books, or helping them find the author’s name of that one book they read that one time. But…still…I found her immensly annoying and who the hell has the time or enery to form a focus group for ervery good goddamn thing they’re interested in? At first I thought maybe she was a robot but quickly deduced that no, she is a HAPPINESS WHORE. I found, about half way through that I am NOT a happiness whore but pretty OK with being the cynical asshole I am for now so I quit the book. I don’t have anything personally against Ms. Rubin {as long as I stay away from her book} and even would recommend it to other people who are a lot nicer than me. To clense my eyeballs I went to the library picked up Shiver, The Handmaid’s Tale and a Ann Rule true crime compilation and look forward to NOT reading about happiness for awhile and wow I sound like a horrible person so you can just forget I said anything about this after I show you…

18. Get core in shape for the spring running. Not motivated AT ALL. Seriously. Last year all I could think about was getting my body toned up and in shape for running. Now all I can think about is which Olivia Dunham Peter should end up with and whether I want wine or a cranberry vodka after the kids go down. This has GOT to change, like NOW but I just can’t find the inner GET OUT THERE ALREADY spirit I normally don’t have a problem with. After tonight we should be caught up with Fringe so we’ll have to wait week-to-week to watch it like the rest of the schmucks out there so maybe that will help, but until then…

19. Go to at least one B&B this year. This goal is looking more and more impossible as our money keeps flying out the window for summer activities for Rowan {swimming, two intensive 2 week dance clinics, piano lessons and possibly ballet} and Keaton: {swimming and soccer/t-ball clinics}. GRRRRRR.

20. Go back to Tetagouche. Take kids. …

21. Keep up a weekly to-do list. CHECK.

22. Keep my reactions to disappointment in check. EH. See how easy going I am that I disappointed everyone by not fulfilling this goal? I think that counts for something.

23. Remember to model myself, the behavior I expect form my kids. Sequins? Do NOT bring out the best in me. Other than costume touch-ups though I’m all done so I’m hoping to be better behaved in May. No promises though.

24. Purchase bed sets for the kids. DONE.

25. Start free-writing again. On paper.

And... fin.

26. Make this the last full year in this house. …

I sincerely hope May will be better. Due to two competitions and the recital, dance will consume every week and almost every weekend but without the intensive costume stuff, I think we’ll be able to handle it OK and hopefully next month’s check in will be more productive. I know posting has been light or non existent but sometimes life gets in the way and that’s not always a bad thing, but thanks for sticking with me nonetheless, Internet. You’re the best.

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These two sets of pictures were taken the same week of April a year apart. What I love about them? How they show what a difference a year makes between a two and three year old boy and a four and five year old girl without even seeing their faces. What I don’t love? How much further along spring was last year compared to the barren wasteland we’re still living in this year. Last year we didn’t get ONE snowflake after February 28th and this year well…we woke up to three inches yesterday, and the same last weekend, which wouldn’t be a big deal at all if the temperature fluctuated back up to the 60s by the afternoons but we’ve been securely stuck in the mid-forties for weeks now and I CALL SHENANIGANS, MOTHER NATURE.

BIG, FAT, HAIRY SHENANIGANS.

Boy Swinging, April 2010

Boy Swinging, April 2011

Girl Swinging, April 2010

Girl Swinging, April 2011

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Spring Cut

You guys know I like to keep Keaton’s hair long, but we’ve made sort of a tradition over the last three years that the week before Easter we give him a nice clean cut. So for about three weeks out of the year he doesn’t look like a sheep dog, which is fine and all but I gotta say that I’m pretty partial to my little sheep dog. It IS fun to see people’s reaction though and he gets a kick out of hearing how everyone thinks he looks like such a big boy and so handsome. He also probably gets a kick out of seeing the world anew without all that hair in his eyeballs.

The Before

The During

The After

I’m already excited for it to grow out again but even I have to admit I sort of missed those eyes. Take a good look, Internet…clean cut Keaton doesn’t last long in these parts.

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You guys…I am SO sick of talking about dance. It has consumed this family for the last 3+ weeks to the point that I am seriously dreaming about sequins and bourrees and slides and hip-rolls etc at night and something is just NOT right with that. However! I DO feel like I have to document this past weekend as it was Rowan’s first competition which was sort of an all-consuming household deal and the whole point of this website is a sort of documentary of us so…you know… sit back and relax! Or get out while you still can via the x. You understand, don’t you Internet? I’m pretty sure it’s in my completely imaginary blogging contract that I write a thousandy words on this.

{Probably} A {completely unnecessary} Recap:

For those of you who don’t know, Rowan was asked to try out a competition class last October and although she was no where near up to par {especially in flexibility} and several weeks behind the other kids, who had all done the summer dance clinics, she really wanted to do it and the teacher said she’d need to practice a ton but they’d like her to stay on.

We REALLY debated this because it was a big jump in time commitment and money and Rowan already had her hands full adjusting to Kindergarten. The last thing we wanted to do was overload her. We decided we’d give her a couple of months to try it and after the first of the year we would put her back in Rec if it wasn’t going well. There were definitely struggles with catching up to the other kids. The last thing she wanted to do was stretch, work on splits and go through the dance routine after a 7 hour day at school. And the last thing *I* wanted to do was spend the little time I had with her each day nagging/yelling/pressuring her to do those things.

There were definitely nights when by the end I had pretty much made up my mind to pull her out but then she’d go to class and come out saying how much she liked it, and how the instructor had praised the progress she was making and I was torn about what was best for her. Should it be this hard? Shouldn’t it be this hard? Is five too young to learn what I feel is one of, if not THE most important life lesson- that by hard work and dedication we learn what we’re really capable of? That if something’s super easy we’re not really learning anything or bettering ourselves? If this sounds a little resonant of the Tiger Mother debate that stirred the web a couple of months ago, rest-assured the correlation was NOT lost on me.

{Most likely} A {completely unnecessary} Tangent!:

I was a kid who gravitated only to what I was good at. If something was hard I wanted no part in it and I fought tooth and nail against it instead of putting that effort into learning it. The biggest examples here are math of any and every kind from Kindergarten to my senior year of college and the six years I struggled through piano lessons. Now I’m not saying I would have EVER become a mathlete or a virtuoso but things might have ended better than that barely passing D- I received for my college math credit in order to graduate or my MURDERING of Scott Joplin’s The Entertainer in my 6th grade recital that finally convinced my mother to answer my cries of  FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY, PLEASE LET ME QUIT!

I feel like Rowan is very similar to her mama in this regard. The kid has the greatest attention span for things she likes, {which happen to be those she’s good at} but gives up very easily when things don’t come naturally to her. She’s young, I get that it could be her age, but her genetics are certainly not doing her any favors. I’ve always let her lead the way, mostly letting her bounce from one thing to another, wanting her to experiment and be happy with how she was spending her time. The reason this dance business was a different story was because she liked it so much despite the fact that she doesn’t have a ton of natural ability beyond having a good sense of pairing rhythm and movement. Both Bill and I played devil’s advocate with her, saying this class would be a lot more work than she was used to and maybe it would be easier to stay in her recreational class but she was insistent on sticking with it. She saw what the other girls could do and she wanted that too.

/end Tangent.

return to Recap

It took time and effort on both of our parts and I’m not going to pretend I handled it all with grace and love because I didn’t. Rowan is not a self motivated kid. She will NOT practice anything on her own, no matter how much she likes it. She would ALWAYS rather be playing ponies or dinosaurs or Barbies so getting her to practice was mostly a nightmare. But. Seeing her face after she finally figured out a tough move is one of the best moments I’ve had with her. When this happens I don’t even have to say anything, tending to wait until she realizes what she’s just done herself. Once she’s realized it, the smile spreads wide over her face and wow. She loves that moment. I love that moment. I love that she’s proud not that she is good at something, but at all of the work she put into that something.

/end Recap

begin the damn purpose of this post already:

Which brings us to competition season. Now if Rowan could have done the same classes without doing the competitions? I would have been ALL for that. I’m not a particularly competitive person and the thought of having MAH BABY up on stage to parade around and be judged put my stomach in absolute knots. Unfortunately, that’s not quite how this studio works. You’re enrolled in a competitive dance line? Guess what?! Your kid has to compete. So that’s why I’ve spent the last 4-ish weeks driving myself batty by gluing hundreds of sequins to her costumes. It’s been…an experience to say the least. But I tell you I’d glue a thousand more if it meant I didn’t have to deal with putting make-up on a five year old ever again. After she’s all made up she doesn’t look like my kid, hell, she doesn’t look like a kid at all, more like a miniature Lady of the Night.

I mean, I get it. They’re up on stage and need things to look exaggerated for the audience/judges who are seated further away. This is a show- a Production {with a big fat capital P}, really. They have to look unified, meaning they all should have the same make-up and hairstyle. I’m on board with the blush and even the bright lip stick; the kids in rec are required to wear those for the recital too…it’s the eyes that I have trouble with. The eyeliner and mascara? Are a little too Toddlers and Tiaras for me. I guess I should be thankful that they don’t require fake lashes but after trying to apply a straight line of eyeliner to tiny, soft, wrinkly five year old eyes? I would SO be on board with fake lashes.

Things actually went much smoother this time than they did at her first dress rehearsal which is, I suppose, their purpose. The first time I had just finished her mascara when her eye inexplicably started to tear up. I asked her if something had gotten in it and quickly wiped the tear away but they just kept coming and I tried to be non-plussed but I had just spent 45 minutes on those eyes and right before me that work was running down her cheeks. Of course I made the rookie mistake of saying “Oh, honey! It’s OK! Whatever you do, DON’T CRY!”. I don’t know if you’ve ever met a Felland woman before but if you have, you know that if you tell them not to do something, they will make it their life’s work to not only DO that something but DO IT BIG. Those genes did NOT get lost on my daughter. So even though I wasn’t yelling or even let a harsh tone into my voice, Rowan started bawling and oh look at the time! We are supposed to leave in FIVE FUCKING MINUTES and I have to start over. Only I can’t sound stressed out or show ANY amount of frustration because the tiny little sad clown in front of me will never calm down. It was awful. I felt terrible for her {and if I’m being honest, terrible for myself}.

I was terrified things would go similarly during the competition prep so I tried very hard to set a light but excited tone. I assured her that we were professionals now since we practiced this whole hair and make-up thing and she just about broke my heart when she said “Mommy, last night when I was in bed I practiced getting the eye make-up on by pretending my finger was the brush so now I know I won’t cry!” To buy us some insurance I went out and replaced her mascara with a waterproof version the night before only I didn’t realize until that morning that it was the wrong color so I had to use the regular stuff on her {Though I ended up using the waterproof stuff myself and let me tell you that was a happy mistake because I needed it.}

While I did her hair we giggled and sang along to Regina Spektor and when it was time for make-up we listened to Billie Holiday and I have to tell you the music made a HUGE difference in the atmosphere. I also let her take turns applying the make-up to the plastic tiger she was carrying around that morning, which she thought was pretty awesome. Although still not my favorite thing in all of this dance stuff, we actually had a good time getting ready together. The room moms keep all of the costumes so all I had to get her in were her tights and off we went into St. Paul. I dropped her off with her group and that was that- it was just a waiting game for the first dance.

Never having been to one of these things before, I had no idea what to expect so my stomach was in knots. The dances went great but I don’t think I took a solid, deep breath until they marched off the stage for the second time. Rowan did great, although she did look really nervous up there for the first dance. She’s been a champ about plastering a smile on her face during practice so I was concerned when she didn’t crack one smile the entire dance but by her tap dance she had adjusted to the stage and smiled through the Mickey Mouse March, genuinely looking like she was having fun up there. And here’s where the mascara came in handy for me, the tears were brought on by one part pride over my little lady doing so well and one part despair as I watched dozens of sequins {and hours of work} fly right off her costume during her numbers.

Once we were aloud to pick her up from the dressing room she didn’t want to leave. She was all smiles and was excited to watch the other dancers, though she was pretty wiped out. We stayed through the awards ceremony later that afternoon.  They call all the dancers onto the stage and give out the scores for each dance and then the best over-all scores. Since the baby lines are up against ages 4-11, it kind of goes without saying that they don’t really place for the overall dances but for their age group they got the highest placing {which is determined by points} and got first place for one of their dances, but don’t ask me which because I’m a bad competition parent and was mostly paying attention to how cute all the kids looked up on the stage, and not only that but how all the studios interacted with each other with applause and big smiles. It honestly didn’t seem very competitive at all, which for me was kind of super awesome. Rowan and her friends were so excited to get their little pins and were genuinely pumped to be a part of the hub-bub. When it was time to go I actually had to pry Rowan’s fingers off the stairs leading to the stage because she wanted to go back up there.

And the next day? We went back and spent 5 and a half hours watching the teen lines dance and Rowan was in heaven. I was so unsure about this whole facet to the dance world and we still plan to take this thing one year at a time. Just because she’s enthralled with dance at 5 doesn’t mean she’ll still be that way at 7 or 10 or 14. But I’m so glad we took the opportunity this time around and that Rowan continues to be inspired by the work she’s put into this.

And of course, pictures. Unfortunately I don’t have any of her in her costume. The girls get dressed after we drop them off and are changed back before we pick them up and there is no photography allowed during the dances. I’m hoping I can get some snapped off when she gets her pictures taken at the studio for the recital programs. Until then…

The Beautiful {bed-headed} Before. 6:30am is EARLY, y'all.

This is me concentrating REALLY hard on trying to part Rowan's hair, which I'm going to guess is only SLIGHTLY easier than what that Moses fella did to the Red Sea.

This is Rowan giving me her "THIS ISN'T AP PHYSICS, WOMAN- FIGURE THAT SHIT OUT" look.

Aaaaaand 45 minutes later we finally have the buns up. And if your wondering, NO it shouldn't take that long, I'm just sort of an idiot when it comes to doing hair.

Right before I dropped her off. I think she started to get a little nervous on the ride over and would NOT give me a smile. You'd think with as tight as I did her buns that it would have pulled the corners of her mouth up. You'd be wrong.

When she came out~ all smiles!

And she was SO happy to see both her grandmas, Uncle Brian, Auntie Jen, Uncle DCFI, Jorie and of course her best Ellie, who came to cheer her on.

We're awfully proud of her. {Even though she looks like she should be on a TLC reality show.} Way to go, Rowan!

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Hair's done!

Make-up’s next, so bring on the VODKA!

Holy...

 

POOF.

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Yes, I AM still pulling sequins out of my bra, thankyouverymuch. I imagine sparkly boobs are a hot trend somewhere but I promise you that in our house they are not. In fact, right now we’re now decidedly ANTI-SPARKLE.

Surgeon General’s WARNING: You are about to be assaulted by many, MANY pictures of sequins. Do NOT view while operating heavy equipment or motorized vehicles. Drinking however IS recommended as it dulls the effect the sequins have on your eyeballs. If you are allergic to sequins or to sparkly things in general it is probably best to ex out of this page now, NOW I TELL YOU.

Just for a little reference let me show you what I, as a parent of a recreational dancer, was responsible for the previous two years of Rowan’s dance:

See these ballets? Yeah. They used to be pink. I had the horrendously difficult job of throwing a little blue paint on them. And... that's it.

And the year after that? I painted her ballets 4 shades pinker than they already were and called it a day. Now here’s what I’ve been responsible for as a parent of a competition dancer… Internet, Ta-Freaking-Da…

Let's start with her feet to be consistent. Gone are the days of the sweet little ballets, now we've moved on to rainbowified converse. What would Chuck Taylor think of these babies?

Those shoes go over black over-the-knee socks, each outfitted with 5 hand-made, sequined bows.

Next up was the skirt which is really 2 skirts tacked together. They came with the 3 tiny waist bows and the rainbow edging but the handmade mid-line bows were sewn on by Grammy (who also did the skirt tacking and the tacking of the skirts to the bootie shorts) and all 5,846 sequins were loving glued on by yours truly.

Bottom of skirt...SPARKLY POOF is sort of an understatement.

This is Rowan's favorite part of the costume. No matter that it only has 12 sequins on it and required the least amount of work, THIS is what she oohs and aahs over.

Guess what color this vest was when it was purchased? WHITE. If Dr. Frankenstein dabbled in vests I'm pretty sure this would be the end result.

So. Many. Sequins. After the initial assault on my eyes I was not a fan of this vest but up on stage it looks really, really cute. Good thing I'm not a room mom- as my color palate consists of blue, light blue, grey and white.

Don't forget the back. We wouldn't want to deprive it of its god-given right to have the ever loving shit sequined out of it.

And to top it off are the ridiculously cute hairbows. These are MY favorite part of the costume, despite the fact that I had to sequin tulle again after I swore it off forever as being very dangerous to my mental health.

And the finished product via crappy camera phone istagram. This was taken at her costume check rehearsal- where {thankfully!} hair and make-up wasn't required, but you get the gist.

What was that? NO, I’M NOT DONE! On to tap…

All I can say is that after this dress? I am NOT Mickey Mouse's biggest fan. For lack of a more sophisticated and delicate description? This dress was a fucking bitch.

See those little white dots? They each hold 15 very meticulously placed white sequins and I know it's futile to spend your life hating inanimate objects but I will spend the rest of my life hating these flipping dots.

The back. The only consolation was that the black part came sequined. I honestly think I'd be institutionalized by now if it hadn't.

The tap shoes are in the custody of the room moms to be glitterfied so I don't have a picture but here are the socks for which I offered my mothers services as a sewer to affix the sequin strands. They look innocent enough, right? WRONG. Each sock has 2.5 feet of sequins sewn on, and that times 24 socks equals my mom probably never forgiving me for this.

And lastly, hairbows! Again my favorite. Which is a good thing because I offered to sequin everyone's by tomorrow evening...why? Because I am a giant dumb-ass, haven't you been paying attention?!

And again with the crappy cell phone picture. Intagram is awesome for viewing on smartphones but not so much on the blog but since I don't know when I'll be able to see her all dolled up, as the room moms are the caretakers of the costumes from here on out, I wanted to show a picture of my little mouseketeer. Now let's all take a moment to pray she doesn't end up like Britney.

And that’s that! Rowan’s first competition is hopefully Saturday. I say hopefully because her table-mate at school threw up all over a couple of days ago and so we’re now just kind of waiting to see if Rowan’s catches a stomach bug. This is of course because we like to live life on the edge and spending 3 weeks high on glue didn’t seem like quite enough, so we needed to add the threat of puke into the mix. Wish us luck!

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