Dance Drama Drama

Before about 30 minutes ago, I wasn't 100% sure that my daughters start dance class today. Stellar parenting, that is.

Trouble is, they send you the paperwork for this stuff two months early. For most people, this would be a good thing. Time to gather the essentials, mark the calendar, etc., etc. For me, this two months serves the express purpose of giving me more time to keep track of stuff that I'm not going to look at until the absolute last minute. Which means shit gonna get LOST.

Cue me hitting up all the Walmarts and Targets within a 60 mile radius looking for the correct sizes of leotards, skirts, and hot shorts. Because hot shorts, apparently, are THE thing that hot-to-trot fancy-Mommed tiny dancers must have. Which pretty much makes me hate them on principle, but Middle One is at the age where she notices when she doesn't have the thing that is THE thing that one must have to be deemed acceptable. And, though my favorite parenting mantra is, "Who gives a shit? Be YOU!" (so inspiring, I know), the little third grade nerd girl inside me says, "Stop projecting your issues onto your kid and buy her the damn hot shorts." Third-grade me was most definitely into psychoanalysis. Lots of cool shit in the P volume of the encyclopedia...

Also, 'member how in the REAL version of Cinderella, one of the stepsisters cuts her toes off to fit into the glass (fur) slipper? I think that's what we're gonna have to do to get Little One into her tap shoes.

Middle One also needs ballets and taps. I told her just to wear her jazz shoes the whole time until next payday, lol. No one will know she's not really tapping, dammit! I really hope they don't get blisters, but hot damn, dance tuition is expensive enough without having to buy the stupid shoes every time you turn around. And come on. A jazz shoe, a (non-pointe) ballet shoe, a shoe for hip hop--pretty sure we could accomplish the same damn thing with one pair of shoes. Can't somebody invent some detachable taps or something??!?

Assholes.

Oh, yeah--I also can't remember if Middle One's orthodontic appointment (the big important one during which she gets braces and headgear and a retainer and her ovaries removed and a programmable microchip implanted into her prefrontal cortex) is tomorrow or next Wednesday. Fun times.