Zizza had her first ever Dance recital last Friday. You may remember her starting Ballet last January and think that’s a long time to carry on with no recital. What happened is, after 3 or so lessons last winter, we decided she’d enjoy it more if she waited until fall to get started. Turns out we were right.
The recital was fantastic. She danced better than I’d seen her all week. Something about having an audience there made her focus. Her eyes never left her teacher, who danced at the back of the room the whole time so the girls could follow along.
What a proud mama I was watching her. I’d like to tell you whether or not she was the best one but I had my zoom lens trained on her the whole time so I honestly didn’t see any of the other girls.
Sad thing though, my camera setting got bumped without me noticing and I was holding a very wriggly Enzo on my hip so none of my pictures turned out. Nice.
Look at how heart breaking this is.
That would have been a killer shot if, a; I knew how to use my camera and, b; I wasn’t restraining a little boy who wanted nothing more than to run screaming to the front of the room and attack the stereo while I took the photo.
After Zizza’s numbers were over and I took my seat, Enz discovered that he loves, loves, to scream into my hand. I clapped it over his mouth myself a time or two and then he relieved me of the responsibility and spent the remainder of the event squashing his face into my palm as he screamed. I think everyone was glad we were there.
At least she was glad.
She was also glad that her Pop brought her flowers, they were bigger than she was.
He always has had a problem with practicality when shopping for his girls, not that any of us are complaining.
P.S. Zizza refused to wear her ballet slippers in the recital because they are pink. “Pink doesn’t match anything else in my outfit, Mama” she told me. And I nearly burst with pride.
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