Emma's recital went off without a glitch last night. She had been looking forward to her "big show" for weeks, and to be honest I was pretty giddy, too. All night my chest was swelling with pride as I watched my little girl thrive in her element. I hesitantly left her backstage with the chaperone's as I went out to find my seat in the auditorium. Emma just looked up at me and said "k mom, see ya!".
Emma's class was about the 2nd or 3rd group to take the stage. Those little girls look so precious in their poofy tutus on that big stage. One by one, each girl floated out like a butterfly and found their correct mark on stage. Then the music began and 12 girls alternately hit their mark or glanced over at their teacher in the wings. They all did great, but of course part of the charm of it all is watching them get off by a few beats, then quickly try to catch up. I am just in awe that a bunch of four-year olds can even remember a three-minute routine.
The girls hit their big finale right on cue, and the crowd erupted in applause. I was surprised to find my eyes full of tears, but I have seriously never been so proud. I could hardly wait to get backstage and scoop Emma up in my arms, which thankfully she let me do.
We went out for a celebratory dinner at the Spaghetti Factory, and since the babies went home with grandma, we got to eat in the "trolley". Emma insisted on wearing her ballet shoes all night, because she wanted people to know she was a dancer. 'cause the tutu, hair bun and Vegas-dancer makeup wouldn't have clued people in enough.