I have no idea what possessed me to think that dance class for Ava on a Monday night was a good idea. Really? WTH was I smoking? Oh yeah, I thought that J or I could split the kids and it would be easy. I clearly failed to take into account his job and social life (volunteer meetings and commitments that seem to fall mostly on Mondays).
And poor Merry. She just gets hauled along for the ride – willing or not. Good thing she’s pleasant natured and easily pacified by stroller rides, goldfish, and Cheerios.
Me? Well, I’m never going to be a dance mom, that’s for sure. I’m too tired to care that much.
Ava loves her combo tap/ballet class, though (even though she says that tap is hard) – so we will slog through it and it will all be worth it when we get to recital time. (Right?)
But, But! Something exciting did happen at dance tonight. Her teacher had a baby. Well, not AT dance but you know what I mean. Ava was a bit befuddled by the whole process and told me that her teacher had to go to the ‘hopsital’ to have the baby cut out with a knife. Well, obviously I couldn’t leave her with the impression that all babies are cut out so that led to the discussion of babies in bellies and how they get out of there.
Her response: “Ewwwwww.”
I reminded her that she wasn’t in my belly and that she grew in her Chinese birthmom’s belly – a topic in which she couldn’t be more disinterested in if she tried, by the way – so then she asked me if Mamaw had a baby in her belly (I then explained that Mama and siblings were all in there at different times) or if Daddy had ever had a baby in his belly. Ummm, no because he doesn’t have a va*ina (not spelling it out because I get some freaky google hits already so no need to encourage more) so there’s no way for the baby to come out…which then led to a whole ‘nother conversation about how boys have to squeeze their ‘peanuts’ to get the pee to come out.
All this because I signed her up for a Monday night dance class…