Today is the the third annual Dance Recital Tragedy. Two things go wrong with this dance thing every year: 1) Sam goes bezerker when it's time to get dressed for the show; and 2) Sam is possessed by Satan himself during the backstage down time. Ironically, she gives me no trouble about going on stage in front of hundreds of people, yet is a frothing-at-the-mouth-psycho getting ready and backstage.
The first year she was two and I was swollen with child (and Mexican food) and the back stage antics almost broke me. It's exhausting to make three costume changes, pass out snacks, and keep a bunch of little crumb snatchers from going all Lord of the Flies. Plus, there's the anxiety of all those other mothers judging your parenting skills. I imagine they're thinking, "She needs to get control of her kid. I can't believe she let's her get away with that. My child would never be allowed to punch me in the pregnant stomach (I told you she went nuts back there)! That poor fat woman, her kid is special." Stuff like that.
Last year the back stage stuff was a lot better, but we still suffered the pre-show freak out. Try getting dance tights on a child that's gone limp yet manages to thrash about while screaming her head off, snot flying! Or have some fun chasing a child around the house until she crouches under the dining table all to get away from the hairbrush! And it's not like she doesn't want to go, she does! Explain that one.
Last year during this train wreck I said, "That's it! We're not going to the recital!" And I really meant it, but Husband was not gonna have us pay all that dance tuition then not go to recital so he helped negotiate her little butt into her leotard while trying to placate me with some sweet talk because I was so mad I couldn't look at her. I know it's wrong to hold a grudge against your child, but I'm only human. And if I can't beat her I will at least pout for a little while.
This year we're going to recital rehearsal then coming home to rest ALL DAY and then we will start getting ready early so I don't have to worry about Sybil the Possessed AND running late. But I vow before God and jurls that I will never do dance again if we have one problem today. Because frankly my jurls, I don't give a damn.