But That Dress

I don't know why other people had kids, but I had kids so:

1. I would have someone to make sure I end up in a good nursing home eventually.

2. I'll always have a date for musicals, at least until I turn senile.

Alexis is generally my Very Willing Date to all things musical, but damn that kid for growing up. Sometimes she has scheduling conflicts and wants to lead her own life when I want to go watch people dance and sing on a stage.

Hi, Mila!Will you be my date?

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That is definitely a yes.

Now that Mila is old enough to mostly sit through some shows (Alexis was WAY better at it at the same age, but then again, she has always been a tiny adult), I've got two willing partners. Wooo! So Alexis was busy this week, but Mila was more than happy to accompany me to Rodger and Hammerstein's Cinderella at Heinz Hall.

(Note: The Cultural Trust gave me tickets. Which, I was going to trade some of my Broadway season tickets for the show anyway, but OKAY!)

I played it off as her "surprise" for some good behavior. Good job, me, because she loved the show. It's funny and beautiful and fantastic, which is pretty much exactly what you would expect. What you don't expect, though, is the thing that is RUINING MY LIFE OMG.

The dress change. There are two points in the musical when Cinderella's rags magically turn into a beautiful gown and it is PERFECTION. I want a dress that can do that! AND SO DOES MILA.

We're two days out at this point and all I've heard from Mila is about how we need to go to the mall and buy her a "magic dress like Cinderella's." She's very convinced that I've been lying all of her life and there is a magic presto-chango dress sitting somewhere and I'm keeping it from her and she WANTS THAT DRESS NOW, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

So, uh, Cultural Trust? Could you maybe hook me up with a seamstress or business card or whatever? I'm going to need to figure this one out if I want to regain my sanity.


Tickets for Cinderella are still available. You should definitely take your little princess.


There's a Reason She Was Half-Naked at Walmart, I Swear

I am not a rookie at this parenting thing, AND YET.

I should have known that when Mila fell silent something was up. She had spent the entirety of the drive from our house to Alexis' dance studio talking about a million miles an hour. She had all of the words, in part because I had told her that she was getting a surprise after we dropped Alexis off. I told her about the surprise because she was making me nuts asking the same questions over and over, so go me for figuring out how to change the subject.

But when silence fell, I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN.

But I was blaming that other thing. Of course ten minutes after we left the house, Mila realized she needed to go to the bathroom. She made it sound like an emergency, so I was focused on getting to dance. They have potties there. They're probably not as good as the library potties, but I'm willing to deal with obstacles one at a time.

We were within sight of dance when it happened. Silence turned into the sound that means your day is ruined. You had plans? TOO BAD! It's time to find a lighter so you can burn your car to the ground because the smell of kid vomit inside a car is permanent!

That's right, on our way to dance and to Mila's surprise, Mila randomly puked in the car. She was silent for about 30 seconds before she did it, but otherwise I had no hints. So, of course I didn't have a change of clothes for her. And, of course, I didn't have any baby wipes or anything to clean it.

Therein lies my rookie mistake. I'm not sure how to explain how someone who knows better manages to drive around without baby wipes, but I do. It's the dumbest little thing. Baby wipes are the best multi-purpose everything so basically they should be everywhere but NOPE. I failed.

That left me with three used Kleenex to try to wipe up all of the things.

I'll just let you sit with that sentence for a minute. It's a doozy.

Three. Used. Kleenex. I mean, really.


As luck would have it, there was a tank top in the car. It was Alexis' "Love Always Wins" tank top that she never manages to remember to take in the house, so YAY! After using three Kleenex to clean up what I could, I managed to find my way to Walmart. Why Walmart? Because where else can you take a half-naked kid shopping for a dress and some baby wipes without drawing any attention to yourself?

I mean, Mila with her WAY-too-giant tank top was better dressed than some of the people there. She was also chattier than some of the people there because apparently she wasn't really sick. Not ten seconds after I cleaned her up, the kid was ready to climb walls again. She was talking and chatting and just so dang happy because LOOK AT HER PRETTY DRESS THAT'S REALLY SISSY'S.

So we went ahead with our evening plans. And it was good, except for the part where Mila kept complaining that she was hungry but NOPE. I'm not falling for that trick ever again.

If I ever have a moment of thinking about letting Mila eat again, I just need to go smell the inside of my car. It smells of rookie mistakes and parenting nightmares.

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Oh, Mila

Mila loves dance recitals and competitions and all of the things. Watching her sister dance is in her Top 10 Things To Do in Pittsburgh. It falls just above Kennywood and right below Eat Candy. She will happily go to all of the things.

She begs, even. Not taking her is not an option, which is unfortunate because even though she's all in, she's still three years old (for another week!). She has the attention span of a senile goldfish. If her sister is on stage, she's good. If her sister disappears, SQUIRREL!

The good news about Sunday's recital was that Alexis had six dances. That means she was on stage for like 20 minutes of the 3 1/2 hour production. That's a lot! Mila made it through the first four pretty darn happy to be there.

And then she started to look for creative ways to entertain herself in between her sister's performances. There was the candy phase. There was the playing games on my phone phase. And then there was the flash her stuffed kitty in my face phase.

Apparently it's really funny to take a stuffed animal and shove it in my face. Mila did it over and over, cackling with glee every time I would nudge her arm back down. She enjoyed it so thoroughly that when her sister appeared on stage for her ballet performance, Mila kept on shoving the damn cat in my face. Even though the camera was there.

I have a lot of photos of a black blob. Telling Mila to stop only served to encourage her to do it more. I finally decided to try to compensate by messing with camera settings (so I could take faster photos), but haaaaaaaaaaa. I turned the dial the wrong way.

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1. At least it's not a black blob. I managed to get a whole three photos of ballet that didn't include the blob!

2. It's artistic, or something. Yes, let's go with that.