Eleven dancing princesses

Frances had her dance recital this past Saturday night.

Being the volunteer back-stage parent (read: sucker) my evening looked something liked this--eleven constantly moving little bodies, fifteen or so trips to the bathroom, twenty-two hair pieces continuously falling out, twenty-two wiggly feet, forty-four shoes to keep track of, and one hundred (give or take a few) tap shoe laces that needed tying at some point during the evening.

But to Frances, the evening was enchanting and included her first-ever make-up session from one of the dancer’s mothers:

The results!

Samantha, Frances and Addie - all happily made-up.

Frances’s vast fan club (Nana sans Pop—we missed you!, Grandma, Grandpa, Gram-E, Mr. Pyles, Daddy and George) kindly sat through thirty-seven dances just to watch their little ballerina perform her two numbers.

Grandpa and George, looking like twins, Frances, and Grandma.  The Pyles and my mother wisely scooted out at the earliest possible break.  Did I mention it was a long night?

Meanwhile, I was lucky enough to be backstage with the star of the show.

That little bun gets me every time.

Holding her hand, kissing her cheek, watching her interact so well with her friends—as hard as it was to contain the chaos of those eleven little girls, I will never forget how much fun it was to be in the throes of their excitement (and how much Frances loved having me back there with her, something I still can’t believe at times).  

In typical Frances fashion, she performed her moves exactly as rehearsed, watched the teacher upfront for instructions, and even sweetly reminded one of her friends onstage that she was supposed to hold her hand "now!"

If you look closely at this picture, you can see a mother whose heart is about to leap out of her chest with pride.  I still cannot believe I am the lucky one to lead this little girl through childhood.

Thank you to her fan club for coming to the looooooong show!  And a happy Wednesday evening to everyone!