One! Singular Sensation!

This year, Marley's dance recital took place mere hours after she, for one thing, raced around the hot, dusty bases at her tee ball jamboree. We went right from the field to the hair salon because Danielle's recital gift for this tiny dancer was a professional ballerina's bun, which of course made Bean feel fancy and relieved me of the burden. I mean, I was flustered enough in the high school gymnasium around the corner from the auditorium, applying the regulation stage make-up (blue eyeshadow and red lipstick, still mostly untouched from last year's recital). Liz, also in the gym with Will, who was ready to perform with a future contender for America's Best Dance Crew, the boys' hip-hop class, heckled: "Hey! Toddlers and Tiaras over there! Cool it!"

Predictably, during the tap and ballet performances, each dancer went through her routine at least two seconds before or after the dancers beside her. Marley dances more slowly than her stage-mates; her movements are deliberate and earnest. Sort of like when she's working on a puzzle, or drawing, or reading. Beanie's more deliberate, all the way around. In fact, one of my favorite parts of the recital was when she paused to push up her glasses. It was such a sweet little Marley gesture amidst all the sparkle and fringe and tulle.

(Next year, we're pretty sure that Rudy will be taking dance class, too. I do not imagine that her movements will be steady or measured while performing. More likely, she will elbow her way to the center of the stage and hop and skip around in her own freestyle solo.)

But this is about Marley. She did it again: a dance recital performance that was so careful and proud. And I didn't cry this year, but it was not lost on me that she is another year older and, in stage makeup, another three or four years older-looking. She is still my tiny, tiny dancer, but she won't be that way for long, and that's just another part of the sweet futility of motherhood, of trying to remember and appreciate and love as much of this as I can.