Bittersweet Sucks.

Several months ago, my daughter started begging me to let her take a dance class.  She practiced dancing, alongside Barbie, every evening while watching "Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princesses."  It was cute and I thought it might be fun.

I started looking around town at different options and soon contemplated letting her continue dancing with Barbie in the living room.  The tuition costs were a bit above my comfort level due to my daughter's tendency to lose interest in just about everything after a week or two.  The search continued, and I made a phone call to one studio after reviewing their website.  They were already a week in to the session and wouldn't let anybody else join. I cursed them. I became determined.

I stumbled upon the 8th Street Studio of Dance website.  I made a phone call.  They were already quite full for the session - but they would see what they could do and give me a call back.  They did.  In order to let my daughter enroll, the instructor decided to hire a helper.  We were in. Brynn was estatic and I bought the cutest leotard ever (for her.)

We went to the first class and she was absolutely in heaven. She lit up. She smiled the entire time.  Tuesdays became known as "Dance-Days" in our house -- all other days were just the days we had to wait for "Dance-Day."

I'm not proclaiming she's the next star ballerina, but she has found something that she really enjoys and I would have continued taking her to "Dance-Day" until she said she was done.  Sadly, the day arrived early when the studio decided to close their doors after this year's Spring recital.  The three owners had kept the studio alive for at least 25 years and for their very logical and reasonable reasonings -- they had to close.

Today was the Spring Recital.  There wasn't a dry eye in the house.  Stories were shared about how the current students -- now teenagers, college students -- have been attending the studio with these three women since they were 4 years old. I cried about 5 times. I am beyond words grateful that we were able to experience what a dance class truly is meant to be, but I am sad that Brynn will not be one of those high school seniors up there dancing her farewell solo. Her dance instructor shared a quote by Dr. Seuss that has been helping her get through this and it went something like this "Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened."

We're trying to smile in our house... but Brynn collapsed on my lap tonight and started crying. "I'm just so sad that I won't have dance class with Katie anymore!" I agreed with her that I was sad too, but that we'd go to dance class somewhere else and that helped a bit...but then she thought about Katie again and started to sniffle again.

I'm trying to figure out why I'm being so emotional about this - logically, I shouldn't be. We'd only been attending classes there for roughly 4 months. She's still able to take dance classes at other studios. I think I'm sad because this didn't feel like a typical dance studio. It was like walking into a loving home where all your friends were already there and you all decided to learn a new dance and wear some twirly skirts. It was a place that gave Brynn self-esteem. It was a place that brought her such intense joy that part of me is fearful that this magic will not transfer to another dance studio.  It's yet another example that things change, people grow up, people move on and blah-de-blah-blah.

So, I'm firmly in a big ol' pool of bittersweet.

So... the link may not be working !

It was not my intent to keep you in the dark!

Go get Matt Logelin's Two Kisses for Maddy

http://www.mattlogelin.com/

http://www.startribune.com/lifestyle/119785494.html

http://www.amazon.com/Two-Kisses-Maddy-Memoir-Loss/dp/0446564303/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1303433841&sr=8-1

You've Got to Know....

that this book will consume you in the most wonderful way.  It will make you cry. It will make you laugh. It will make you cry again. It will make you realize that your husband isn't very articulate (could be just me...) and it will make you want to get involved and help others. It will make you believe that good can emerge from terrible.

Go Buy This Now

Patience is a Virtue that I Lack.

I'm a planner, always have been and always will be. Well, that's my plan anyways.  So, when things don't go according to my schedule, I get anxiety. I get crabby, and I get restless. How can I get things back on track? What can I do to speed this along?

Well, to get my legal career back on track, I have been pleasantly inquiring with all my friends as to whether or not they are indeed happily married.  Turns out, they are.

To get my finances back on track, I pushed my husband off a cliff and made him go to a job interview.  He almost (figuratively) died, but he did comply.  Turns out, that didn't work either.

So again, I need to find my elusive faith at this moment in time and realize that I will eventually get clients and trust that my husband is in the employs of the company that he is supposed to be.  I need to be patient.

It's not fair for me to think that a bunch of good shit can just be dropped in my lap. I'm not saying that's not how I'm thinking though. It is. I really, really want a bunch of good shit dropped in my lap.

But I will continue waiting for my patience to arrive.

What I've Been Reading...

Mississippi Mud (Edward Humes): I loved this book. I picked it up while I was at the library with my 18-month old Boomer. The cover looked cool and it looked like it had never been checked out before. (It’s kinda always been a dream of mine to be the first person to check out a certain book.)  It’s a true-crime story about a daughter trying to determine the killer(s) of her parents – a prominent couple in Biloxi, Mississippi.  My only complaint: The book ended.  I did some online research and tried to find inmate photos of the killers, but the Federal institutions apparently don’t post inmate photos.  One of the ringleaders DOES have a Facebook page, but (luckily) he doesn’t have a “send a friend request” button.  Another possible security precaution perhaps? Also, my online research has led me to believe that a movie is perhaps ‘in the works’ as well.

Paint it Black (Janet Fitch): Again, picked it up while Boomer was with. I really loved her previous book “White Oleander” so I thought I’d like this one as well. I didn’t. I returned it before I finished it. I have an inkling of what was actually painted black, but I have no confirmation. I am fine with this. This story is about a chick and her boyfriend, whom commits suicide. They are artsy people. He comes from money, she does not. I couldn’t read this because there was sooooooo much description and narration. I have determined that I am a dialogue reader. I don’t care much for knowing that the roses didn’t smell like flowers, but rather a spicy mulled wine.


Bright, Shiny, Morning (James Frey): I’m a huge fan of James. This book was basically a romance novel with the city of Los Angeles, and I was pretty cool with that. During the course of reading this book, I was having a work lunch at Ruby Tuesdays. I leaned over to my co-worker visiting from India and said “I can’t stop looking at that waiter. He looks like a guy from this book I’ve been reading.” Yep, I got some weird looks, but I love when books start to consume me. That’s what this book did. (Confession: there were a couple chapters that were too narrate-y for me and I did skip over them. Ex: a history / evolution of the LA freeway system did not hold my attention)



Daffodil (Emily Jenkins): Brynn and I both loved this book. Jeremy hated it. I’m going to buy it. It was a sad day when it was returned to the library. This story is about a group of triplet girls and their party dresses.



Booming Bella (Carol Ann Williams): Another super cute story! Bella has a loud voice and she needs to learn when it’s okay to use it...


Miss Nelson is Back (James Marshall): I read this story when I was younger, and now whenever I substitute teach for Brynn’s Sunday school class – she calls me “Viola Swamp.”

So that's it -- that's what I've been up to. I'm currently out of books at home, and need to get back to the library!

(shameful admittance: I have read one more book. It doesn't deserve to be at the top of the post, but I'll sneak it in here.)

Just so you know…

I am a friendly person, but I don’t make friends very easily.

This is even more apparent in my adult years – if I want to “go out” my options are typically limited to inviting either my mother or my husband to go with me.

And you know who I go to Bon Jovi concerts with?? Yep, my mom.

But this all started changing about two years ago when I started my current job.

The job that I am leaving in a few short weeks (wish it was days).

I feel very proud that I can now say that I have two great friends.

Two great sisters.

I don’t know what I’m going to do without them sitting two inches away from me for 9 hours (eh, who are we kidding, 7.5 hours) a day?

I really love them and feel bad for breaking up our dysfunctional work family, but I know that we are like a real family.

Because they will never be free of me.

Ever.

I promise.

I know where they live.

Roll of the Dice

I love Bon Jovi.  The kind of stalker-ish celebrate his birthday every year, know the names of his kids, subscribe to the email/facebook feeds, have every song they've ever published memorized, and google-earthed his house in New Jersey type of love.

It all started when I was six.  A girl at daycare was upset that her parents wouldn't let her have a Bon Jovi album. She was only allowed to have Genesys.  I decided to test out my parents cool-factor and told them that Bon Jovi was my favorite band ever.  I don't think they had any idea who/what Bon Jovi was, but soon enough I had a cassette of '7800 Fahrenheit'.  That Christmas my cool uncle supplied me with 'Slippery When Wet', and somewhere along the lines I got 'Bon Jovi' as well.

Bon Jovi has been with me for a long ass time. (and now the music is with my daughter as well).  And really, it's not because Jon is the hottest man in the world -- it really truly has more to do with the music hitting me at the times in life that I really needed help.  And then it happened again this week.

I put my notice in at work yesterday.  I have been contemplating this for a very long time.  I am extremely scared, nervous, and pretty much want to puke whenever I think about what I've just done. You see, I'm basically going to be self-employed in a commission-only type situation. I'm going back to what I seriously love though... I keep getting reminded though that our family loves our house, our food, our cars, our coats, blah blah blah. If going back to practicing law is what I love, I HAVE to make it work to pay our bills. This is what scares me. This is what scares my husband.

I was driving last week and "Someday I'll Be Saturday Night" started playing. (If you need a JBJ fix, watch this).

Someday I'll be Saturday night

I'll be back on my feet, I'll be doing allright

It may not be tomorrow, baby that's okay

I ain't going down, I'm gonna find a way, hey, hey hey



 Hey man, I'm alive

I'm taking each day and night at a time

Yeah, I'm down but I know I'll get by

Hey hey hey hey man, I've gotta live my life

Like I ain't got nothing but the roll of this dice

I'm feeling like a Monday but someday I'll be a Saturday night

So yeah, I do feel like a Monday.  A super terrible, have tons of meetings with no access to coffee, with screaming kids in the car, and have only fish sticks for dinner type of Monday.  This is the point in the post that I'm trying to come up with something hopeful, something witty to conclude the post with. 

But, really.... I've got nothing.  So I'll leave you with this: