The Ballet, The Strip Show and The Crazy Twizzler Lady
Today was mother-daughter day and it was wonderful. We donned our finest clothes and headed out to the ballet. It was Veruca’s first time; it was my first time.
It was one of those days that Veruca was in no mood to be photographed. It’s a shame because she wore the most stunning dress I’ve ever seen. It was a deep wine with metallic thread embroidery, a low back and huge bow. She wore matching tights and champagne ballet flats. For outside, she also wore a deep wine colored velvet jacket, edged in ruffles. She. Was. Beautiful. But camera shy.
The menfolk had plans of their own too. They also went into the city to see the Harry Potter exhibition at the Museum of Science. We all drove in together; V and I hopped out a few blocks from the theater and had a very, ahem, fancy lunch in Chinatown.
Veruca was fascinated by the city and observed that “this Old McDonald’s isn’t anything like the Old McDonald’s we have at home.” I think I’ve mentioned before that my children have no brand recognition for (Old) McDonald’s. The golden arches produce no Pavlovian response in my kids. I don’t really know why; they are weird.
After lunch, we walked the few blustery blocks to the Boston Opera Company. I have never been there before today. As we walked in to the theater with it’s huge atrium of gilt and garland, I felt that flip-floppy stomach thing that hasn’t happened since I was a kid. I was excited for Veruca, but I was also pretty excited to be experiencing this myself.
We were seated — our seats were wonderful and on an aisle. I cannot recommend aisle seating enough. Okay, are you ready for me to sound like some overactive imagination stage mother? People noticed Veruca. She was completely unaware, but I noticed people pointing and staring at her. I was stopped about a half-dozen times by elderly women who wanted to tell me how beautiful she was, how gorgeous her dress was, what a little lady she was being. Veruca batted her eyes at her admirers and said (with a southern accent) “Why, thank you!” which just thrilled everyone. End of “My child is the most beautiful conversation starter in the world” brag. For now.
Where was I before I started in on how the whole universe worships my kid? Oh, so we were seated and the ushers are great, but they have to say over and over and over again “There is no photography allowed in the theater!” They say it loud. There are signs everywhere. It’s printed on the tickets, the program, the website. This isn’t some little-known rule. Yet still, people whipped out their cameras and cell phones. Snap, snap, snap. Veruca was astonished that she was surrounded by so many misbehaved adults. When the guy in front of me queued up his iPhone, V loudly exclaimed “Mommy! I think that man is about to take a picture!” I stuffed a program in her mouth.
To the right of us, some chick and her obnoxious kid obviously took a wrong turn and meant to be at Hoyt’s cinema. Because really, do you need to be eating M&Ms and Twizzlers and drinking a can of Diet Coke that you smuggled in at the ballet? The Twizzlers just piss me off the most. Seriously … Twizzlers?
I was Tweeting my disgust and giving her my best side-eye when I casually glanced over at V only to discover that she was topless. She had slipped her arms out from the arm holes of her dress and pulled the bodice down to her waist. Completely naked from the waist up. I jumped on her like she was a 90% off clearance cashmere sweater at Banana Republic, and was like “What in God’s name are you doing?” And this is the innocence of my child, the part of her that I love so much. She stripped because she was hot. I pulled her dress up and explained that stripping amongst people we don’t know is never okay. (Oh, shut up. I’ll tell her about my dating years later.) Isn’t this an exhausting story? Act 1 of The Nutcracker hadn’t even begun at this point.
The show began and my daughter was transfixed. She was a balletomane — raise your hand if you Googled “balletomane.” I just learned that word recently. – right out of the gate. I watched her a lot, probably more than the stage production. Her eyes were locked on the dancers. I had to hold her hands down to keep her from emulating the arm movements of the ballerinas. She wouldn’t acknowledge me, just kept staring and nodding her head slightly in beat to the music. Her face mimicked each emotion — joy, sadness, fear — as it occurred in the story. After each dance, she would clap emphatically and call out “Beautiful! Beautiful! Wasn’t that beautiful? Are you clapping everyone?” and she’d look at all the people seated around us to make sure that they were in fact clapping. Once, she caught me not clapping; I’m not sure but I think I’m grounded for a month.
The show was amazing. She grew sleepy near the end and climbed up on my lap. She leaned against me and fell asleep almost immediately. I looked down at this child of mine, swathed in silk and curls and tulle and a feverish glow, in awe of what passion she has for dance. I am 37 and don’t think I’ve ever been as enthralled with anything as much as she is with ballet. Special K and I have been talking about putting her in dance class for a while now. My enterprising little girl has been teaching herself to dance from YouTube. My mother can put on any genre of dance video and she will sit and study and eventually imitate. She’s only four, so it’s strange to witness such an intense level of interest, but it’s there.
I’m not sure where she’ll go for dance class (Boston Ballet Company has an excellent program) and I’m not quite sure how we’ll afford it, but I see that hope, that love, that passion that comes across her face when she dances or watches dance; I don’t want her to ever lose that, so I know we will find a way. I’m not saying that she’ll ever be a dancer, she may totally suck, but I want her to have the ability to explore this dream; this calling that she tells me she has. I mean, you need to pay attention when your preschooler tells you that God wants her to be a dancer, that dance is in her heart.
K and I strive to be parents that do everything we can to foster and support the journeys of our children. We don’t always succeed; I pray that they grow up and feel … somewhat enriched. I want Aspie and V and DD to have options — to experience much, live hard, and … well, dance freely.
This entry was posted on Saturday, November 28th, 2009 at 9:40 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
November 28th, 2009 at 9:53 pm
She IS beautiful! My kids call it Old McDonald’s as well…
Can’t wait to take my girls to the ballet… oxox
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November 28th, 2009 at 10:24 pm
I miss the days of being a conversation starter. It’s always the dark haired tanned skin little girls
.
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November 28th, 2009 at 10:29 pm
This was beautiful, just like little V.
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November 28th, 2009 at 11:02 pm
Oh, Wendie… That’s so touching. I wasn’t put in dance until I was ten or eleven years old, and my parents always told me they regretted not doing it. If V has that much passion just watching dance, she will LOVE being in actual classes. I strongly recommend you do enroll her. What a gorgeous little girl.
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November 29th, 2009 at 2:25 am
Your daughter is adorable
Where did you get the dress?
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November 29th, 2009 at 9:25 am
This is one of my favorite posts of yours. Beautifully written. I’m so glad you had this awesome experience. Your daughter is very special – there is something precious about her that goes far beyond her obvious beauty.
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November 29th, 2009 at 10:56 am
I agree with Joan. I’m really glad you and V both got to do this, and that it was such a success.
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November 29th, 2009 at 11:40 am
I am so glad that V loved the ballet! I just took the girls to see Giselle! It was amazing and the girls were transfixed!
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November 29th, 2009 at 11:43 am
What a lovely post, Wendie!! It’s so nice to really feel the pride and love you have for your daughter!! I love to hear the sassy, sarcastic Wendie but it’s so touching to hear the loving mother Wendie!
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November 29th, 2009 at 11:49 am
She’s gorgeous. Just gorgeous.
God told her he wants her to be a dancer? That’s pretty damned cool.
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November 29th, 2009 at 4:16 pm
Oh I loved this post. I usually do not comment, but I have to say, I am one of four children. When I was younger my dad would take me (and only me) to see the symphony. This gave me a huge love of classical music as well as an interest in playing an instrument. The time alone with my dad was special and I think aided in helping me develop this appreciation. I started piano lessons young, and later was given lessons for free from a college professor who specialized in teaching children. Fast forward to now, I am 24 and have a degree in piano performance (I had a scholarship to study in college). I am going to start on my Master’s in the fall. My life revolves around music, all because of my parents taking the time to help this love of music grow. Give Veruca lessons and keep taking her to the ballet. It could very well end up being her passion in life.
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November 29th, 2009 at 4:38 pm
Wendie, my grandmother took me to the Nutcracker in Manhattan as my first ballet! To this day, I remember going with her with our fancy clothes and grownup hats. I am sure V will remember this always!
Beautiful dress!
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November 29th, 2009 at 7:12 pm
My boys think that Ronald McDonald is Old McDonald.
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November 30th, 2009 at 1:34 pm
Wendie, gosh I just love you. Your writing is beautiful. Thanks for recapturing a beautiful childhood moment that we all experience at some time or another. It may not be at the ballet, but we’ve all felt the wonder and excitement when something special is about to happen.
Well, what can I say about Veruca? Gorgeous and doe eyed with hope and love. My daughter is nine and I remember the days of dressing her up “special” as a youngin’. I too get stopped by all the elderlies to this day to tell me how pretty my daughter is…the strawberry blond hair is a big hit! Nothing can make you more happy or more filled with pride than when a stranger tells you how pretty your daughter is because deep down you know that you made her and she is a part of you forever.
Would have liked to see a picture of you!
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November 30th, 2009 at 2:30 pm
Goosebumps. The love for your children is amazing, refreshing, and comical. Bless you!
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November 30th, 2009 at 7:19 pm
I was a dancer all my life and I miss it so much. I don’t have the money now but research good schools and get her in ASAP. She will thank you later.
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November 30th, 2009 at 8:38 pm
Thank you for bringing back wonderful memories. Saturday matinees in
NYC with my mother and sister. The ballet, the theater, dressing up and
having tea at the Plaza. I did it with my daughter (not in NYC) and know she
remembers those times fondly too.
Four is a great time to start ballet. I did and continued through college.
If nothing else, she’ll have great posture!
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December 1st, 2009 at 1:42 am
Veruca is very cute!
I’m sorry for being off topic, but I’d really like to see all the entries from your banner/logo contest thing … and I’m sure everyone is dying to see the winner!
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December 1st, 2009 at 2:55 pm
V is looking so gorgeous!!love the post Wendie
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December 2nd, 2009 at 4:48 am
O. M. G. She is sooooo ridiculously beautiful!!! And what a magical mother/daughter experience. You simply must put her in dance classes. I can’t even imagine how amazing she’d be!!!
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December 2nd, 2009 at 10:39 am
Great post, Wendie. And Veruca looks gorgeous.
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December 2nd, 2009 at 9:15 pm
Sweet and funny post…beautiful girl
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December 3rd, 2009 at 9:09 pm
What a great story – thank you Wendie. It was hard for me to hold back my tears reading this post because it reminded me of my childhood adventures to see Les Grands Ballets Canadiens with my mother. I was about the same age as your daughter when she told me she began to see my growing interest in dance. Almost immediately, she enrolled me in classes and here I am, 14 years later, at the age of 18, still just as driven and passionate for dancing. There is no harm in exposing her to the culture, only benefits. By putting her in classes, I hope you get to experience the same euphoria watching her dance, as will she when she gets the chance to perform.
Good luck!
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December 30th, 2009 at 12:27 am
Wow. This post totally gave me goosebumps and even made me think about having children of my own. If you write one more blog like that I WILL go and get myself knocked up.
I love reading about your experiences as a parent. You are truly blessed…but you already know that.
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