Stick it!

The end of the school year is also the end of the gymnastics year.  And the end of the dance year.  And that means it is show time.  Last week, Marley, Rudy, and Emma performed on bars, beams, vaults, and a springy floor in brand-new, shiny leotards.  There were medals, there were trophies, there were Doritos and cupcakes, and there were scrunchies.

Next year, Marley's going to be a Level Two Competitive Gymnast.  This means she's continuing to move far beyond the skills and strengths that I never even knew existed.  She's working on a back handspring; I cannot do a cartwheel.  She is freakishly strong, and I know this from struggling to peel her off of me when she's clambered on like a koala.  She loves climbing and swinging and holding her head and arms just so.  She told me the other day that she wants to try cheerleading.  She would love it: the sassy dancing, the performing, the license to cartwheel carte blanche.  We missed the registration deadline, and though I'm sure a phone call could get her on a tiny squad, I'm not so sure about Beanie shaking pom-poms for sport.      

 Meanwhile, Rudy has finally mastered the lunge and smile.  Two years of instruction there really made a difference.  

We had time after Rudy's show and before Emma's to lounge in the sunshine.  But then we had to skidaddle before Emma hit the equipment because we had to get ready for our first dance recital of the day.  Yup.  Just like last year, the Saturday before Father's Day was a whirlwind of hairspray, performance, nerves (Marley), and nonchalance (Rudy).  I kept up a steady rhythm of: get home, straighten up, make breakfast/lunch/dinner, straighten up, serve meal, dress child, pack bags, straighten up, and get to the next location.   In the end, within a fourteen-hour shift of preparation, celebration, and clean-up, I enjoyed at least thirty actual minutes of my daughters' dance and gymnastics.  It was the last insane push before a week that has been blissfully unscheduled.  Within a few weeks, the appointments and commitments will begin again, but for now, we're all still just taking bows.