Wednesday, September 28, 2011


Evening #3 of the Three Day Diet, and here's how I'm feeling:


I'm super excited about this girls weekend coming up with my mom and my sisters! 

I have a lot left to do tonight, and I'm so sore from ballet and tired from work that I'd  much rather sit on the couch and watch The Cosby Show with Emma. 

So blogging is the compromise.
 Semi-productive from a seated position. 

Friday, September 23, 2011


         I miss scrapbooking. Not honestly for the craft itself, but for the outlet it gave me. I *may* have gone slightly overboard in zeal at one point in my life, but looking back, no one was harmed in the process. In fact, my kids do not like it that I don't do it anymore and complain loudly about the fact. I must needs come up with a new way to be creative. When I come up with a cunning plan, I'll let you know. Everything seems to require too much time/money.
         But if I'm not currently creative, my kids certainly are. They are also growing at an alarming rate and require more space. I'm not about to stifle them, so they can have all the room they need. In the studio area. Not in the living room. Ok. They can have the living room, but they have to clean it up when they are done. I love what they are doing right now, and their enthusiasm and energy is wonderful.
          I feel like I am coming down with a nice flu right now and this is the first moment I've risen from the couch since I got home 4 hours ago. Perhaps that affects the mood and tone of this post, but I'm determined regain ground that has been lost from lack of practice.
          I will say it here to reinforce the idea in my brain: Self-neglect is not the "high road" nor it is a good example to set. Self-indulgence is not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about doing things that are healthy, right and natural for your spirit and your body. I can't really think of what those things might be right now. Possibly exercising and eating healthfully, but also allowing creativity to have a place in my life---beyond the creativity I'm using in dealing with people at work. I do enjoy that, but it's not a bucket-filler.
          I had an instructor in nursing school who encouraged us to make sure our buckets were filled. She said that the nursing profession, though fulfilling, can empty your bucket pretty fast and that we needed to find ways to fill it back up so that we did not burn out.
           So what fills the bucket? The ballet class I'm taking once a week. Bubble baths. Crawling into bed at night. Puppies who curl up with me when I don't feel good. Pinterest. (oh suck of my time, but it hurts so good.) Fall scents and getting emails from folks who tell me that I'm helping make their work in the clinic more successful.
            I must practice. Practice saying "yes" to the right things and "no" to the wrong things. Even if on some days what seems to be the wrong thing is just the difficult thing.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Labor Day: Trip to Glen Rose, TX

What's Happened

"Is too much.
Let me sum up."
          -Inigo Montoya

New Job: still working in the school district, but as a resource nurse, moving around to different schools, kind of as a support person. Liking it. 

New Job: Bill is managing the studio full time. Loving it.

New School: Bo started Jr. High. Advanced Orchestra, dance classes, Robotics club, lots of homework, new friends. Loving it.

Old School: Emma is now at school without her brother for the first time. Fourth grade. It's been an adjustment for her. Busy with dance dance dance. Liking it. Mostly.

The days just fly by. 

Wednesday, May 18, 2011


I'll believe that.

Tuesday, February 01, 2011

On Ballet.

This Christmas, I was browsing Amazon to find a book for Em, who generally doesn't LOVE to read unless the word to page ratio is a certain number or less. This would break my heart more, except that she adores the Betsy Tacy books. I can live with that. Anne will come when she's older.

So. I found this book, and got it, thinking: "Emma will love it because it's so full of pictures and it's about dance, and Bill won't care because it's a comic, for crying out loud." I was right on both counts, but it turned out to be so much more. It is a beautifully written and illustrated book which gives a clear glimpse of a young girl attending the American Ballet Theater during the end of Balanchine's life. When it came in the mail, I opened it to check to make sure it was appropriate, and read the whole darn thing while sitting on the floor of my closet, hiding from the kids.

Emma loved it as well, and read it through three times before we finished our Christmas trip to Baton Rouge. It not only entertained her, but it lit some sort of fire in her regarding ballet.

I know this feeling. My ballet-o-mania was rather short lived, but it was real. We had seasons tickets to the Fort Worth Ballet. I rented Barishnikov and Gelsey Kirkland's Nutcracker and The Children of Theater Street from the library about four times. We saw the Moscow Ballet at SMU. The only result of all this is that a) I'm quite star-struck with Emma's ballet teacher, who is a principal with Metropolitan here in town and b) I daily question whether I'm pushing Emma too much, or living vicariously through her.

When this thought plagues me, I remember these things: I never have to drag her to dance. She loves it. She wants to go. She works hard. When she started the team last year, she couldn't do the splits. She worked every night. She stretched and pushed herself for about three months. When she finally did them, she jumped into my arms and tearfully said "I did it! I just said to myself: 'If I want to look professional, I have to act professional.' and I practiced and I did it!" She takes correction (even from those of us who know less about dance, but say what does or doesn't look quite right) without getting pouty. This is a huge lesson, and one that every child would do well to learn. She thinks about it long term. She thinks about what will be best for her own training and future. She isn't the best. She knows she's not going to be on a tv reality series any time soon or ever, if I have anything to say about it. I'm sure she daydreams about being a super-star, but she doesn't talk about it.

So am I a pushy parent because I correct her when she acts up in class or because I help her practice at home? Maybe. But I do the same for Bo in violin, and for both of them in schoolwork and chores around the house. It's what parents do. Yes, I showed her the website of Evgenia Obratsova, but she stayed there and watched all the videos on her own. (PS. She is amazing and so darling!)

If it's just a temporary thing, I'm happy. We have that in common. But if it's more than that for her, than I am happy to keep encouraging her. In the meantime, I think we are both enjoying it.

Anyway, ballet is just so pretty!

Suzanne Farrell. So pretty.

Love the huge painting and the high gloss wall color!

Degas, natch.

Em's ballet teacher, Marina and her husband Andrey. See why I might be star-struck?
and of course, Margot Fonteyn.

So lovely and graceful.

Monday, January 24, 2011


I wish everyday was my birthday.

or rather

I wish everyday was this birthday.

or rather

I wish I could hold on to this feeling of overwhelming gratefulness

For each and every person

Who crossed my mind and heart today.

Never before in my (now even longer) memory

Has spring come in the dead of winter.

Fall, yes. October, yes.

Grey January?


But now, today,

a newness, a hope,

a sense of Him in each step of my past

and a glimmer of light in the future.

And so this grey sky has transformed

from dreariness to

a Lightening of the darkness.

For God, who said, "Let there be light in the darkness," has made us understand that this light is the brightness of the glory of God that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ.
2 Cor 4:6