Dancing back to reality

I am posting yet two more pics of Paris - these are nearly my favorites because they are of the fountain at St. Michael (pronounced San Michelle) which is where I would suggest we would all meet up if we could organize a great gathering in the City of Lights. It's around the corner from Notre Dame and in not too far from Luxumbourg Gardens, which is a large peaceful park in the shadow of what was once a palace. There is a large pond there and parents rent sail boats for their children to float. They guide them by pushing them along with a stick. The boatman is almost as popular as the icecream truck!

And then, just as I was finally getting to know the city and understand how to use the metro, it was time to return to my other adventure. I came back just in time for dance recital frenzy.

I was a dance mother newbie this year - so innocent, so ignorant to the complicated ways of the dance world. I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I signed her up for lessons. I knew there would be a show, but I had no idea how truly complex the whole thing is. At the beginning, they said she needed two pairs of shoes (tap and ballet) - that should have been my first clue. Then she needed to have a black leotard and pink tights. Not a pink leotard. Not nude tights. I dutifully complied, remaining clueless. Then there was the deposit for a costume. Okay, I expected that. Then the real bill came in - all that for a skimpy bit of lycra? That I could have made myself? (Never mind, I don't want to make 20 so everyone will have one) Just when I thought it was safe, we were told we needed yet another costume for the ballet number. Then special tights. Then black shoes, not the beige ones used for class. (Thankfully, we were allowed to paint them).

After all that, I thought we were set, but no, there were tickets to buy for the show. Then you also have to have flowers for after the show. And don't forget the concession stand! Whew.

One last thing, you have to arrive an hour and a half before the show and be available during the show for costume changes.

At the end of the day, my little dancer was thrilled to be on stage. She was as cute as could be. And it was one of those bonding experiences that we hear so much about. That's what it's all about, right?

My little peanut is the last one on the right as you look at the photo. I'm not sure that she's ready to go pro just yet.