Money well spent

Today was Who II's first dance recital. They actually didn't call it a recital, but a year-end demonstration. I think that's to take pressure off the kids. But mom was a mess!

The stress started with the very explicit instructions about hairstyles. "Style however you want, just don't do pigtails (oops, there goes my area of "expertise") and if you do a bun, make sure it's on top of the head, not on the back (oops again. How do you keep slick little Asian hair on top of one's head???)." So being the smart mama I am, I called in reinforcements. $20 later, we had princess hair, courtesy of the wonderful Zefan!

Part II of Mama Who's mania came when we tried on the tutu (I just love saying that word, don't you?) and it promptly slid down Who II's nonexistent hips. Remember, this child is nearly 6 and weighs a mere 35 pounds. And that's being generous. So out come the needle and thread. Mind you, home ec was not my best subject. Needles are best suited in my household for removing splinters. But I managed to take up the waistband without bleeding all over the lovely lilac tulle. Victory!

So off we went to said YED (code for year-end demonstration), where Who II was most definitely the best ballerina of the bunch. She's only had four months of lessons, while the other girls have had at least a year. Even the teacher told us how good she was and what a quick study she'd been -- to the point that the other girls followed her lead.

It was wonderful to see her smile and to see how self-confident she was. This is a child who's found her element. So guess who's on tap for more ballet lessons?

Plie, anyone?

The better to see you with, my dear

I still remember my first pair of glasses. Chocolate-colored horn rims at the ripe old age of 5. I sported them proudly in my cute yellow dress on the first day of kindergarten.

The older I got, though, the more hideous they became. We'd call 'em birth-control glasses today. Sure, they were in vogue way back when. But they still make me shudder.

Fast forward a few years (ahem) and we learn my beautiful 5-year-old has eyes that need a little boost. We want to make sure her superior brain is working at maximum capacity when she hits kindergarten in August, so after a second vision screening at preschool came up shy of passing, we checked out the local eye dude. He did a great job with the exam, even breaking out the cartoons (let's hear it for Elmer Fudd and that screwy rabbit!) as a way to help her concentrate while he peered into the inner depths of what turns out to be very astigmatic eyes. Normally, he says, he doesn't prescribe specs at this age because the eyes change so much. But we're a special case, and the eyes need some help so they work together better. Naturally, my mom guilt set in quickly. Maybe she WASN'T just shaking me down for the yummy grape medicine all those times she complained of a "heady-ache!"

So off we went to the children's frame selection, Big Who excited and Mama Who determined to make it a fun, positive experience. We started trying on frames and suddenly I froze, then a low keening sound erupted from deep within me.

"Noooooo," it said. "Nooooooooooo!"

For what to my tired progressive-lens-wearing eyes did appear but frames that looked Exactly. Like. Mine. From 1970.

"No! Absolutely not! Put those BACK!" I ordered the poor 20-something optical technician.

OK, I'm crazy. And don't get me wrong -- I love my mother, oh she of picking out the chocolate horn-rims. I really do.

But I promised myself I would never get my kids glasses that looked like that and I would never dress them in red, white and blue vertical-striped pants. And if they ever had a brother, I most DEFINITELY would not dress them in MATCHING red, white and blue vertical-striped pants. Ever.

So far, so good, though I'm sure I'm well on my way to embarrassing my kids on many other fronts.

I'm really pleased with the frame we picked out. It suits her face. And Big Who's frames are red like Mama Who's, which we both think is pretty cool.

The glasses haven't made their debut in school yet. She'll be the first in her pre-k class to wear glasses. We have a very supportive teacher in a school that works hard to promote kindness to others and strong values. But I know some kid is going to make a comment that maybe isn't so nice. And my very sensitive girl, who's so excited about her glasses, is going to be hurt.

As much as I'd like to, I can't protect her from that. So we're building her up now. She looks stylish. She looks beautiful. And she looks so smart and grown up!

And for now, that's going to have to be enough.