Extrovert

Gillian is a born and bred performer. She is enough of a ham to be like me and want peoples' attention even if the actual act ties her in nervous knots, but enough like Sean to be very reserved and focused when she is up in front of people (ie, not a showman, like her crazy little sister). There have been no shortage of opportunities to let her "look at me!"ness shine on as the school year comes to a close.

The first end-of-year performance was the Spring Musical. I adore the music teacher, who worked herself to death to put together a wonderful idea and get the kids ready for a true production. Another arty mama and I painted the backdrop (24 ft canvas-by far my biggest painting ever) for the show, which turned out pretty well (mock up of Van Gogh's "The Bedroom"):

                                                                      Setting up/decorating

I spent most of that Wednesday helping decorate, but for all my volunteerism I got reserved 3rd row center seats, which-because it always ends up being standing room only-is worth its weight in gold.

Preschool performed Do Re Me, which we didn't record because we had a technical issue, but we did get the second song (which was a hot mess and full of nose picking for Addie!). Kindergarten performed "I won't grow up" from Peter Pan and "Tomorrow" from Annie. The entire show was a boy dreaming about being on Broadway, so all the song the various grades performed were show tunes.


Last weekend, Gillian had her group violin recital. This, luckily, is what Addie did during the very long wait for Gillian's group to perform (she was the best behaved 3 year old in the place, maybe for the first time ever!).




Gillian will miss out on the solo recitals because we will be in Florida on the date that was selected (after we made travel plans), but she is more than happy with one recital (though you'll recall how handsomely she made out from her recital last year). But here she is playing a Minuet-how proud were we? Well, look how I took over the student seating as soon as they left so I could be close to the stage to record her (obnoxious, I agree, but a girl has to do what she has to do).


And finally, Gillian has been taking an after-school Spanish enrichment class from the Little Linguists Academy from Señora Santiago. She does have Spanish twice a week in school, but this is extra just because I wanted to mix up her after-school time in a constructive way (she also took Art for All for two sessions after school this year). Anyway, she *loves* spanish!!! Here is her last performance of the year!!


We plan to enroll Addie at the music school in the fall. It will be interesting to see what kind of performer she turns out to be!

*THIS* is why I am tired

My kids call my name approximately 1,000 times a day. In this satirical piece, Gillian gives you a glimpse of the insanity that is my life. Except it's this x 2. Every day. All day. Except when I'm at work, which, ironically, is my peaceful time.

Right here

Sunday was Mother's Day. I woke up to my beautiful daughters in my bed, hugging and kissing me. My husband brought a cup of fresh latte and some beignets he scored from a restaurant he plays a gig at once a month. The girls wanted to stay and snuggle, and gave me a massage. They brought me beautiful gifts they made at school. Breakfast came, in bed, and I didn't have to do a thing. I watched the girls' show with them on the couch, and we went to mass (Gillian asked why we had to go to mass if this was a special day, and Sean said "well, moms just like to go to mass, ALL THE TIME.").

Somehow as I was there in that church, on that crisp spring day, I felt my mother all around me. I felt her in every other mother with their children in the pews..every mother who had lost a child..every mother carrying a child...and every mother who had moved on. Addie asked why I was crying, kneeling at the pew. I told her I was happy and sad and humbled. I get to be counted among the masses of those who have given life...who has been given the privilege to manifest creation. After communion, our priest asked all the mothers to come to the front of the church, and we got a standing ovation. And I could see my little family in the back of the church waiving and proud, and I couldn't stop from getting teary-because of all those people in that sea of people, that little family belongs to me. No matter how terrible or distracted or angry I get, they forgive me and love me in spite of myself. And as the entire church extended their hands to bless us in prayer, I started counting my blessings....for love and faith; for family and friends; for health, meaning, and work.

Because no matter what I do for the rest of my life, nothing will compare to creating Gillian and Adelaide. And I wish my mother, who loved to brag on me, could have met them-my greatest achievement.

Mothers are our conduit to conscious existence and our portal to this plane of being. There is divinity there. And they carry the balance of the family on their backs...there is something spot on in the reverence the Catholic church has for Mary, the virgin mother. The one who manifested the savior.

So, I'll get off my serious kick here, and will explain my long absence. Suffice it to say I am ruminating as the seasons change, in spring, and how life bursts forth out of nothing and how beautifully that parallels motherhood.

                                 Addie and I at the Mother's Day Tea at her school last Friday