You know you're the parent of dancers when...

...you overhear, "(jokingly) I'm gonna grande battement you in the face!"

...you're kids prefer Tchaikovsky to One Direction.

...you wash more tights than socks.

...you try to finish Christmas shopping before 'Nutcracker Season.'

...the biggest choking/ingestion hazard in your house is hair pins.

...even the non-dancers know what 'attitude' really means.

A Change of Scenery

I am in a hotel room by myself for 24 hours.  Then it will be just my husband and I for another 24 after that.  It's been a long time since I attended anything remotely retreat-like, and the last time I had a baby in tow.  Not a burden, not at all, but this is a very different experience.

The lists of directions and schedules have been assigned at home, and I'm remarkably unconcerned as to whether they'll be followed.

I'm supposed to go to an event right about now, but the sound of quiet plus downtown background noises is keeping me in this room for just a minute or two longer...

Tempting as it could be to worry about things at home, I realized yesterday that everybody's guardian angels can do a much better job than I, anyway.  So, dear angels, do your thing.

I'll just lie here on this fluffy comforter...

Not Worthless

So.

We got a puppy.  

Our cats went missing and left a void, my sister's friend happened to have a litter of the cutest little fluff balls you've ever seen, my husband had a moment of weakness, and the rest is history.  

His name is Bosco, and, all things considered, he's a really good little guy.  And cute.  I mean really.

A friend asked us what his redeeming value might be.  In the days when people had dogs for purposes like herding and hunting, this breed was a lap sitter.  Then, after the French Revolution, when the commoners got their hands on them, they became circus dogs.  So.  We've got companionship, entertainment, and keeping the carpet cleaners in business.  Does that count?

Then, yesterday, Bosco did something that made my heart sing and swell with pride.  Good-for-nothing furball?  I think not.

He ate a spider.  In my house.  

He has earned his keep.