Ok, so last night was observation night at dance, right? I had this little fantasy in my head where Rob goes and holds Anya and we all watch while Ally dances with her friends and I can snap some gorgeous pictures of her trying her very hardest. Then we all go home and put the kids together, get a little action and have a full night's sleep.
When will I ever learn?
Ally was all kinds of wound up last night. I don't know how much speed they put in her snack at day care, but I'm pretty sure they did. Aya was cranky. Rob was tired and cranky (He worked a 24 hour shift at the ambulance Monday) We had a little over an hour to get the kids fed before dance, and it just wan't happening. Ally finally ended up with a pb&j sandwich, and we ran out the door. Her 2 day care friends that go to class with her didn't come. It was only her and 4 other (older) girls that she doesn't really know yet. She wasn't listening. The parents in the room distracted her even more. Anya wanted down to chase Ally the whole time. (I let her on the floor occasionally and she'd crawl a little bit. Then I'd grab her pants and she'd keep trying to crawl and just crawl in place for a hwile and get realy confused. It was actually kinda funny) Rob kept trying to jump in and discipline Ally, but I try to let her have 1 hour at dance where Rob and I aren't constantly correcting her. It seems like we're always telling her what to do, and I want to make dance free from that. Not that I want her to run wild, I do go in the class when I see that she's being crazy, but most of the time I let the teachers direct her. They keep her in line most of the time all by themselves.
Arggg. So, no pictures. I will do it sometime when Anya isn't with me and the class is going a little bit better. Maybe even before class sometime, when she's just running around the dance floor. I was thinking that her next set of JCPenney's pictures might be in a leotard. Oh, and she has a recital scheduled for the end of March at an old folks home. (You know, I'm glad that leotards are made the way they are. It at least keeps me from worrying that she'll pull up her dress and flash everyone.)
And I have to sell candy. WTF? She's 3! Well, they gave me the option, but leaned heavily toward expecting me to do it, and I didn't turn them down. People at my office will eat the candy bars, and it won't be hard to get rid of them at all, but still. 3 years old! So, if any of you want a candy bar, just stick your $1 in an envelope and mail it to me. I promise I'll send your candy bar to you right away.