Monday, December 19, 2011

Iggy was an angel.

I am not even kidding.

Imagine 40 three to four year old children in a 25' X 25' dressing room.

Imagine that the room has really hot makeup lights. Yes, really. The children were wearing makeup so they couldn't cry or wipe their faces without someone bothering them to stop. They were restricted to water and crackers because they couldn't eat any food that might stain the costumes. (Luckily a thoughtful mom sent her child along with a massive amount of string cheese to share.) I'm sure you can picture that there was no room to play.

Imagine that the four parent volunteers (myself included) have no idea what is going on. Picture those clueless volunteers torturing the angels by getting them in full costume too early, making them stand against the wall, quietly waiting for their cue, and then forcing them out of their costumes again upon receiving word (45 minutes later) that the dress rehearsal is running 3 and 1/2 hours behind schedule. Believe it.

Those darling children were applauded by a full house for adorably appearing on stage in a 30 second performance.

Had that audience known what the darlings had been through the day before at the dress rehearsal, there would have been a standing ovation for the real angel performance that took place backstage.

That was the dress rehearsal. Five hours of hell for forty angels.

The show (pictured in this post) was the heavenly setting for those halos and wings. One third the number of children. Much wiser volunteers. A smoothly-running show.

I came away from the experience with a real picture of what it takes to be a dedicated dancer.

And what that means for a mother of a dedicated dancer.

At first I was sad that I would miss seeing the show from the house seating.

Now I feel totally privileged to have seen Iggy so well-behaved in such a miserable situation.

Three and a half months ago Duke and I prayed for guidance in helping Iggy with some behavioral issues. We felt inspired to enroll him in ballet and to challenge him to earn his dance clothes and shoes for the class through a reward system we devised together.

I never could have foreseen the spectacular strides he's taken since then.

He walked out onto the stage and I could have jumped for joy. He did it. He made it. Here his hard work culminated in the object of his desire.

A massive "awwwwe!" rang in their baby angel ears as the audience fawned over their near-deadly cuteness.

They walked out and stood dumbfounded in a clump, wide-eyed and totally captivated by the grandeur.

Iggy remembered (about halfway through his part) that he should be doing something besides staring at the sugar-plum fairy. He turned a little spin. He wandered a bit. He wandered some more, so much so that the enchanting fairy and an older angel lovingly directed him off stage.

And that was that.

Back to the dressing rooms to wait for curtain call where they sat on the stage and stared blankly at the strangers in front of them. Iggy saw me in the wing and ran to hide in my lap before the curtain even closed.

I honestly don't know if he'll even want to go to dance class when it resumes next week. He was all too anxious after the show to replace his dance slippers with hero boots.

We'll see. All I know is that those dance shoes have helped him to find some inner grace.

What a lovely way for Father to answer a prayer.


Rach said...

Loved this! Got all teary reading it. Were proud of ya OSS!

alyssa suzanne said...

goodness, how i loved this.

Laura said...

This is beautiful

Laura said...

This is beautiful

RoxanasiEliza said...

I just saw this film The tree of life, and I was thinkinf of you, a great, amazing, beautiful mom...!

Andrea said...

You are inspiring. I found your blog on Rachel's and I am hooked.
What a beautiful description.

Latenightstamper said...

very inspiring post. Thank you