Dancing through the weekend

The morning after Eldest arrived home and the kids all scrunched together and chattered and laughed endlessly, Little Guy threw up. The following day Eldest was laid flat. No vomitting, but every ache imaginable and high fever. She slept for 2.5 days. The day after that, Snuggler succumbed. I was praying like mad that Dancer wouldn't catch it. Because, you see, Dancer was performing this weekend. She's spent three months preparing, and it would have been beyond sad if she got sick.

The cast of Stars and Stripes (Balanchine)

Usually I'm pretty good about adding the "Thy will be done" clause at the end of my prayers. This time around I shot heaven an eyebrow-raised look of warning, the kind my kids know means Did you hear me? After giving up three precious days of Eldest's vacation time to a bug, I wasn't in the mood to deal with a bitterly disappointed child moaning on the sofa. And lo and behold, she didn't get sick.  So thank you, God. (And yeah, I know my attitude stunk.)

So my middle child danced all weekend, three or four pieces in each show for five shows. Me, I did the backstage thing: called the show, did fast changes, and sewed up costumes that fell apart. Except I'm not a seamstress. But there are times in life when you're the best in the room at what you don't know how to do, and so you do it.

What I am good at is solving problems in a pinch. So when someone gets bright red lipstick on the front of a white leotard and there's half an hour before it needs to be worn again, I'm your girl. Option #1: Wite-Out. But we only had the tape kind on hand. Option #2: well, I didn't know. And then just before we needed to put the leotard on the dancer I spied a roll of medical tape -- the cloth kind that ballerinas use on their toes -- in the dressing room. So I tore off a piece and sewed that over the stain. It worked.

I did get to watch the performance from the audience on Saturday afternoon. It was a fine thing to see.