My Little Dancer

Gracie is a dancer.  She was dancing before she was walking.  If she hears a good beat she has to dance to it.  It could be the new neon tree's song.  It might be the sound of her maracas.  Heck, it could be a car commercial, but never the less she has to dance.  She just can't help it.  Now, anyone that knows me knows that while I love music, I am not a dancer.  I feel the beat but I have no idea what to do with it. My only two fears about having a daughter were that I wouldn't be good at doing hair and I would make hers look awful (which so far hasn't happened) and that she would want dance lessons.  I should have known that based on those fears I would absolutely end up with a girl with a fantastic head of hair and a love for the dance.  At 18 months she was using the handle on the stove for a ballet bar.  She has been BEGGING me for lessons for an entire year.  "Mommy, I neeeeeeeeeed dancing shoes and a tutu and to learn how to ballet". I said "How about when you're five?" She sighed and said "No, mom, can't wait til five."  I try avoiding the subject at any cost but she keeps bringing it up.

My ballet career lasted one year and if you ask me, that was one year too long.  I signed up for ballet when I was six.  I only signed up because my sister Amy was taking it.  Amy was and is a dancer.  She was was filled with excitement as we walked to the center of our town with our mom for the first lesson.  I really had no idea what was happening except that I was in a black leotard which was itchy and riding up on me and I had these dumb pink shoes.  The teacher was tall and thin and she had a flowy pink tutu over her leotard.  Amy thought she looked beautiful.  I knew right then I was in the wrong place.  But hey, I just had to make it through the class and then it was over and I never had to come back.  Well, that's what I thought.  After class we were taught how to say goodbye to the teacher in a sing song voice. We all said in unison "Goodbye Miss Rosemarie! We'll see you next week!" I remember thinking how dumb that was and how glad I was I wasn't coming back next week.  Then  on the way home my mom was talking about the next lesson and I said I wasn't going back.  She stopped in the middle of the street and said, Oh yes you are.  I said dancing is dumb and I'm not going back.  She said I just bought you a leotard, ballet slippers and tap shoes and paid for the lessons.  You're going back.  It was a long, long, long year.  I hated every second of it.  Amy loved every second of it which made me even madder.  I could not comprehend how someone could actually enjoy this nonsense.  Then all of a sudden late in May my mother comes home with these two ridiculous poofy dresses.  Turns out, there was a recital that no one told me about.  Yes, I knew we were learning this silly little dance but no one told me we would have to perform it in front of actual people.  In this ridiculous dress.  With a hula hoop cut in half with plastic flowers hot glued to it (and no, I did not make up that part).  It was awful.  I did that stupid dance and then I swore I would never have anything to do with dance classes again.  I was sure that if I ever had a daughter she would also hate dancing and would never want lessons.  And then I got Grace.  And all she wanted to do was dance.  And my mother is surely up in heaven laughing like crazy and doing a jig because now I was going to have to suffer through what I dreaded most.  I tried to fight it.  I really did but the princess of the dance is just too over powering.

So I  caved and looked for a dance studio and found one that was affordable, close by and had classes on Saturdays.  Tonight we went to officially sign up and she was delighted.  We walked in and she saw a rack with leotards and said "Mom, this my dancing place?".  They gave us a tour and showed us the studio her class would be in and as soon as they turned on the light she walked in and gasped, "OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH.  I gonna have my dancing in here!!!!"  She was giddy.  We walked out with a packet of information, a list of stuff she needs and a little girl that was beside herself with happiness.  I don't know how she will make it to Saturday when we'll have the time to go get her ballet and tap shoes.  On the way home I told her there would be a recital at the end of the year and she would get to dance in it and we would all come see her.  She said "Mommy, will I have a beautiful dancing dress?" Oh yes, you will.  And if you're lucky maybe even a cut in half hula hoop with fake flowers glued to it.

Three Years Ago

When I woke up on Friday, August 7, 2009 I was a single woman, working professional, sister, friend, aunt, daughter, co-worker, book worm, music lover. The one thing I wasn't was the title I had longed for most for as long as I could remember.  I was not a mother.  I was 14 months into what was supposed to be an 8-12 month wait for a child.  I usually woke up anxious every morning but that morning I wasn't.  I certainly didn't suspect that my entire world was about to change but for one welcome morning, the anxiety had subsided.  I walked into work as me and I walked out 8 hours later with a colored printer picture of this gorgeous face and the realization that I was a mother.

I had three thoughts when I finally saw her face for the first time.  

1. She's gorgeous

2. My poor baby looks absolutely terrified

3. She has pony tails.  She's four months and she has enough hair for pony tails? I'm in trouble

This was the picture that made me realize that there was such a thing as love at first site.  I know that everyone has different emotions when they see their child for the first time but there was nothing mixed about what I felt.  The second I saw her I was her mother.  There was not a question in my mind that this was my child and that I loved her with everything I had.  Call me sappy, call me sentimental, naive, crazy, but that's what I felt.  I also felt a tremendous responsibility to her birth family.  There isn't a day that goes by that they are not in my thoughts.  I can't really remember my life before her and they have to live theirs without her.  I think about that in every decision I make for her.  I owe it to them that I get to raise this incredible girl and I don't take that for granted. Since I never know if they get all the updates I send, I send a little prayer out every so often to them that she's safe and loved and healthy and that we love them and pray for them. I hope they get those too.  

I will never know why I was lucky enough to become the mother of this little girl but every night I thank my lucky stars. On this night, I thank them a little bit more.  

Showing Some Pride

Getting ready to support our two countries in the Olympics.

Back From Vacation

We're back from a fabulous to week visit to my sister Amy's in California.  If I weren't being lazy I would write an entire post about the trip. But.... I AM lazy so here are some pictures instead.

Gracie and Sarah with their hair braided to look like Doc McStuffin

Gracie and Auntie Amy at the playground

Nate and Sarah on the way to the beach

Dock Weilers State Beach

Auntie Amy and Uncle Kevin's trailer we stayed in at the beach

Gracie and Sarah checking out the beach

Oooohhhhh, Sand!

The water was chilly!

cousins

my beautiful girls

beach

Sequoia National Park

Jones. Flaherty and Walsh families

The Flaherty cousins

Gracie and Uncle Dennis

Look at my walking stick!

The whole clan needs a walking stick!

Cousins

Gracie and Jakey, best buddies

My two godson's Nate and Jake

Meghan, Sarah and Gracie

Are you done making us pose for these dumb pictures?

Having a little fun

Need a ride Meg?

My favorite picture of all

Braids-Year Two

I have had this post written for a week in my head. In my head it was going to be all about Gracie getting her braids done this year.  In my head, things were going to go swimmingly. Better than better.  This year was going to be a 360 turn around from last years hair braiding debacle.  This year I was going to link to last years post and tell you all that last year was history and this year Gracie was cooperative, easy going and delighted by the whole process.  I was absolutely positive that we had passed the freak out point at the hairdressers for good and it was going to be awesome.  And it was............in my head. In reality..........ugh! It was a grade A disaster.

All week leading up to the appointment she was very excited unlike last time when she sobbed the whole way to the salon.  This year she was excited all morning and couldn't wait to get there. Then at 12:30 as we were driving to her appointment she told me she wanted to take a nap in her bed.  Well, that was going to be a problem, because her appointment was at 1:00.  For the most part, she doesn't nap anymore.  However, she decided that today was the day she was going to make an exception.  In truth, I had wanted to schedule her appointment for first thing this morning but she had a kids sports class this week and Friday morning was the make up session.  Since we were having some rain this week I didn't want to take a chance that we would have to reschedule since they don't do kids braids on Saturday and this was our last chance to have them done before we go on vacation.  I have already told my sister that if I make an afternoon appointment next year, she has my permission to commit me.  That's assuming they let us back in.  I'm mostly kidding about that comment.  I think. Mostly.

So, we get there and we walk in and another little girl is having her braids finished and she is crying.  Grace looks at me and says "I don't wanna do this. I want to go home and take a nap in my bed.".  I hope this will wear off.  I try to point out that the little girls braids look lovely and look, she has beautiful colored beads on the end of those.  Wouldn't you like those on yours? First I get the stink eye.  But I kept on with telling her how happy she would be when they were done and she was so big and grown up and this would be easy.  Since I clearly wasn't picking up what she was layin' down she said "No! I want nuffin! I want to go home and sleep in my bed." Now, you might be thinking why in the name of Sheldon Cooper didn't she scoop her up, cancel the appointment and go home? That's a fair question to ask.  However, if you have ever had the pleasure of combing her hair even one time in your life, you would know the answer to that.  And it's called the Flaherty girls need a hair combing vacation.  For me, this is like looking forward to the two action packed weeks of the Olympic games.  There are no losers in the hair vacation.  There are no bronze medals.  Just a tie for gold with Mommy and Gracie joyfully sharing the podium and thanking the hair stylist who brought us to this miraculous moment.  In this case, it does hurt to be beautiful but those two blissful weeks make it worth it.  It's hard to remember that when she's throwing her shoe's off and yelling at the stylist "You're supposed to gentle.  You're not being GENTLE!!! This is rude!!!!" In the stylist's defense, how is she supposed to be gentle when the child, whose hair she is trying to gently hold is thrashing around like she's about to be sent to the electric chair.  She's yanking her head all over creation and is blaming the stylist for her lack of gentle touch.

If I am being honest, this particular stylist is not my favorite. In fact, she is the only one I really haven't cared for.  She does a gorgeous job braiding but she made me feel like a complete dummy.  We get Grace to sit on the chair and Grace immediately tells me she doesn't want to do this.  Then she pulls out the hair dryer and she put some kind of spray on a paddle brush and used it to somewhat straighten out Grace's curls to make it easier to braid,  It would have been really interesting to watch if Grace wasn't screaming and trying to jump down from the chair.  I tried everything.  I offered her the toys we brought, my phone to play with, an ice cream when we were finished.  But nope, she just kept screaming.  She screamed for her bed.  She screamed for her favorite blanket, she screamed for me to call Auntie Kate to come pick her up and bring her home. The stylist told me I was feeding into her and I should go sit down.  I actually think she was right about that but it still hurt to hear it.  So I sit down about 15 feet from Grace but right in her sight line and then she starts screaming that she's scared and needs her mom.  I try talking to her, I try not talking to her.  Other stylists try to talk to her.  It was a disaster.  Then she screamed "I want you to hold my hand mommy, I scared" so I said screw this and I got up and held her hand.  Did I feed into her? Yup. And I would do it again.  Then she says I have to go potty.  I said you went right before we came in, you're OK.  She screamed it out this time.  Two ladies in the salon both told the stylist to stop and let her go potty.  Both the stylist and I said, she's fine, she's stalling. When the stylist finished the braid she was working on I took her to the bathroom.  She had a trickle and was done.  We went back out and she was still fighting mad but one of the ladies brought over the four month old she was holding and eventually she stopped screaming.  And then she smiled at the baby and made silly faces at him.  At this point we were about half way done and then all of a sudden she was the most helpful child on the planet.  She sat still.  She handed the beads to the stylist to put on the bead tool.  She looked at herself adoringly.  I sat on a chair reminding myself that some day I will laugh about this.  Someday it will be one of the stories that start with remember the time we had your hair braided and it almost made both of our heads explode? Yup, those will be good times.  Just not today.  Today I apologized to the entire salon and so did Grace.  The owner gave me a hug and said oh, you did so good.  I'm so proud of you.  This is so hard to watch but it gets better.  The other people in the salon nodded as if they too had been through hair braiding hell.  They watched her shake her head and smiled as she laughed and laughed over the jingling sound the new braids made.  I gave a 40% tip, again, because she really deserved combat pay.  And as we walked out into the sun Grace marveled over her beautiful braids and I thanked all that was holy for the foresight to schedule my own hair appointment for tomorrow as my gray hair ratio multiplied by 50% in that God awful hour and seventeen minutes (but really, whose counting).

Was it worth it? You betcha! But let's just say that I'm happy to have a year to recover before we try this again.

The Beginning of Summer

Nothing like starting a Sunday with church and breakfast with the grandparents and  then getting new sunglasses.

I'm ready for my closeup

Auditioning for the US Synchronized swim team

waiting to go to the pool

Two peas in a pod trying to be patient

Happy!

Bubbles!

Running

I'm gonna wash that kite right out of my hair

Things have been busy with us but good.  We had a couple of weeks where the tantrums reared their ugly head again but we seem to be back on smooth grounds again.  After a week of rain we were happy to get outside for bubble blowing and kite flying. I think it was more a glider than a kite, but unfortunately, the maiden voyage of the Cinderella princess kite was the last.  She was playing with it inside after we were done and she popped it.  Very sad, but she handled it well.  She said "I think I made a bad choice to sit on it". We live and learn.  

Sunday Sillies

We have been blessed with incredible weather this weekend.  This morning Gracie and I went for breakfast and then spent some time at a local playground.  What a great way to start the day!  When we left the playground Gracie said "Mom, I really love this day!" She is off with her cousins this afternoon to a local carnival which gives me a couple hours to clean, with a little blogging thrown in for good measure.

Yesterday I had an opportunity to attend a tea at a good friend of mine's home to raise awareness and funds for the Fistula Foundation.  Hope for our Sisters is a non-profit that is partnering with the fistula foundation to provide surgery for women afflicted with this condition.   A fistula is a medical condition brought about by obstructed labor and/or trauma leaving a woman with incontinence, resulting in isolation from family, friends and society, a lack of dignity, and a loss of hope. There is a powerful documentary called A Walk to Beautiful that follows five women on their journey to seek treatment and healing for fistula.So far, Hope for our sisters has raised enough to fund 48 surgeries but their goal is to fund 100.  Fistula has been eradicated in much of the world but many women in Africa and some poorer Asian countries are still suffering from it.  I was amazed to learn that the surgery and hospital stay, plus a new dress is only $450.  That seems like nothing here but is a massive amount of money for many of these women.  If you're interested in learning more I would highly encourage you to visit their website.

While I was out for the afternoon yesterday, Gracie spent the afternoon at my parent house.  Gracie sees them all the time and adores them but she still anxiety being at other people's houses without me.  She's generally fine a little while after I leave but the lead up is always hard for her.  She was anxious in the car on the way up and I thought we were in for a full throttle tantrum.  But once we got in the house, she relaxed and 5 minutes later I said I was going outside to put her car seat in Baseball and Grandma Judi's car and she said "Oh wait, Mom! First I need a kiss!" I gave her a kiss and that was it.  No crying, no sadness, just excited to go on an adventure with the grandparents to get their hair cut.  They said she was fantastic and they really enjoyed having the one on one time and so did she.  So much so that when it was time to leave after we had dinner with them she was in tears and begged to stay. It was a really good feeling for all of us.

Next weekend should be extra fun for us.  Gracie's Auntie Andrea and Uncle Rob are coming to town and we'll spend Friday afternoon together and then Uncle Rob will go meet up with the guys and Auntie Andrea will have a sleepover with Gracie and I.  Gracie was so excited and said "Auntie Andrea want to sleep in my bed?" I said I was sure she would appreciate the offer but she would likely take the couch over the toddler bed.  On Sunday Gracie and I are going to Maine for the day.  My parents are up there for the weekend and have invited us to come up and spend the day with them at their hotel pool.  So it should be a great weekend!