Let there be blood

Hudson got his second bloody lip yesterday trying to walk down some steps in the Tot Spot at the Children's Museum. Depth judgment comes much later than it should really. On a note less bloody, we got to see our friend Izzy's dance recital later in the afternoon. She did a fantastic job. My favorite part was the moment of contemplation she took in the middle of the tap routine to "Good Ship Lollipop." Harper was very excited about the recital until we got there and she remembered that she had planned to wear her "ballet shoes" but we had forgotten. I'll confess that I had not reminded her because I didn't really want her wearing her too small white patent dress shoes in public, but I felt pretty sad when her eyes welled up with tears of disappointment and she kept saying, "Oh Mommy, I can't dance with the ballerinas without my ballet shoes." She recovered and managed, much to my surprise, to actually sit in a chair and watch quietly while the girls danced. She did get a chance to dance with Izzy when the recital was over, though it was more Twyla Thorpe sort of galloping and flexed toes than anything classical per se. Probably because of the shoes. She is getting an actual pair of ballet shoes for her birthday in a couple of weeks. Though after having seen them in action, she also would like some tap shoes. I'm going to get my mom to dig around in the attic and try to find my old ones. I took lots of dance classes but always preferred gymnastics. I was a decent tumbler in my day and, to impress Harper and Hudson, decided to do a cartwheel in my parents' backyard while we were there over the weekend. Just a plain cartwheel, mind you, not the aerials I used to be able to do. Oh, it hurt. Like fire. All the way down my leg. I really, really need to start doing some yoga or pilates or something. Anyway, they did look awfully impressed that Mommy had twirled around like that.