Thursdays are Devin's Irish Dance Class days, I should probably call it "Devin's Skip, Roll Around and Do Nothing That The Teacher Asks Class"...but that would deserve a whole blog of its own...so on with last Thursday....
I decided that I would take both girls to the class since it would be "easier" than having to return to my folks' place to collect sweet, darling 17 month old Deirann at the end. My mum was helpful as always and offered to come with us to the class, but of course I declined since she had the baby most of the day....oy. ....I shoulda taken the offer.
We finally get to class the usual 5 minutes late (no matter what I do, when I leave, I am ALWAYS 5 minutes late for this class...drives me nuts). I start getting the offspring outta the car when Devin asks if she could bring the coloured Easter eggs she had made earlier with Grandma into the dance class.
"No Devin, you can't." Short, simple, answer.
"Ok I will bring the basket too." Did she not hear me? Does she attend my husband's class on selective hearing??
"No Devin, eggs are not a good idea in a dance class. They will get jumped on, squished and then what will we do??" All the while I am trying to get her to come out of the car.
"My teacher is going to be so excited to see them!".....?....really, does anyone actually hear me when I am talking out loud...cause if not, I will just keep my comments to myself and share them with the other little voices in my head instead.
"Devin, get out of the #$%! car NOW and leave the @#$% eggs inside, can't you do as you are told!!!!!"
No I did not really say this to her, but boy did I want to!! Instead she got the filtered version: "Devin, please get out of the car now so we can go inside. Hey I think Deirann is going to beat you getting out of the car!"...when in doubt, throw in a little competition, motivates the laziest of 'em don't it??
Devin finally got out of the car and reluctantly left the basket of eggs inside. She stood patiently and quietly by the wall as I got her dance shoes, water bottle, and baby sister ready.
"Ok, let's go, wow you were fast, you beat Deirann! Good jo......."
There stood little Miss Devin soaking wet for the knees down. She found the tap on the wall and decided to play.
"Mummy my feet are cold and wet...."
Count to ten...count to a hundred...just don't get angry....
"Well, I guess you can wear your dance shoes home after class." Happily she skipped into the studio while I trudged behind hauling everything else. Oh sometimes I miss when all I carried was my Burt's Bees chapstick and a smile on my face....
Once inside, I put Deirann down and helped Devin get her (brand!) new wet shoes off and put her dance shoes on.
Oh oh.
"Oh dear Devin, looks like I messed up and brought to left shoes that are different sizes...." How did I manage that??? "But you know, what a funny thing you can wear, everyone will love it!"....little white lies are ok to feed your kid right? They are like the 5 second dropped food rule.
"Nnnnnnnnnnooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"
"Come on Dev, slip them on, no one will no even notice."
"Nnnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooooooooooooooo....." Followed with a very dramatic flop on the ground that many a Hollywood actress wastes money on acting coaches to learn.
Lord, give me strength.
At this point, I am getting a little hot since they crank the heat in the studio, and notice that about 8 parents are sitting comfortably on their chairs watching all this play out with the "Oh, been there, girl, and so don't miss it" look on their faces...
Insert other Dance Teacher's voice: "Ummm, excuse me, but there is a toddler in my tap dance class that is running around. Does she belong to anyone out here?"
Oh good lord, Deirann. I totally forgot about her. God that therapist's bill is going to be big later in life when she needs to talk about her childhood.
"Yeah she is mine, I will come get her."
Buddha, give me strength.
"Devin, come one, you go in with 2 wrong shoes, or bare feet. You choose."
"Nnnnnnnnnnnoooooooooooooooooooooooo!"
Now at this point, if I was one of the audience members sitting around on the chairs, I would quickly help out any struggling mother who is clearly over her head and needs a hand. But apparently the mums sitting around me, were enjoying the entertainment a great deal and did not feel the need to help.
So off I dash down the hall to grab Deirann and carry her back kicking and screaming to where Devin is lying.
"Ok Dev, let's go home. I am done." Gotta pick your battles and this ain't one of 'em.
"Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooooooooooooo!"
Out pops Miss Dancing Teacher in her cute little dancing outfit, " Hi Devin, you ready to come in?" If she offers her a balloon I swear I will kill her.
"OK! Come on Mummy I waiting for you to put on my shoes. Look Miss Teacher, they don't match! Isn't it funny??"......are you kidding me?
Luckily, one lady who had been watching all this decided that I had suffered enough and offered to help Devin put on her shoes while I struggled to hold on to Deriann...it would be easier to hold onto a greased pig.
At this point we left the car about three minutes ago but it was by far the longest three minutes of my life.
"Mummy, where's my hair elastic? I MUST have one for class, Miss Teacher says so." Yeah, does Miss Teacher say it is ok to drink during daylight hours too, cause I'd love her if she said yes.
"Here Devin, let me put your hair up. Deriann sit." Ok so the the therapist's bill will also cover why we give the baby one word commands like she is an animal.
ZZZZZZZIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGG....THWAP.....WAAAAAAAAAAAAA! The hair elastic snaps in my hand/Devin's hair, "zings" across the room and "thwap" hits Deirann on the cheek. You can figure out the last part on your own. Add "why my parents beat me" to Deirann's therapist's bill.
Finally young, River-Dancing -wanna-be Miss Devin enters her class and I drop to the floor to play with the basket of toys and give Deirann a little much needed attention. She on the other hand, has other ideas. We spend the next 25 minutes running into the other studios with Deirann providing a little interpretive dance of her own. When I would finally capture her and drag her out from the classes, she is NOT a happy camper.
At the end of the class, Devin comes skipping out as happy as can be.
"That was fun Mum, everyone liked my shoes!" Good, a little silver lining is always welcomed.
"Great news Dev, well let's head home and tell Daddy. Come on let's see who can get ready first..."
"My shoes are wet, I am not putting them on."
"Fine, wear your dance shoes."
"No those are for wearing in the dance class only."
I can feel the eyes behind me and hear the snickers already.
"Well barefoot it is my love."
"Nnnnnnnnnnoooooooooooooooooo." Honestly, I feel like the Truman Show, where are those stinking cameras?
Suddenly my brain flashes back to that math question in grade school about getting a duck, fox and bag of corn across the river. Ok, how can I carry a 24 lb greased pig, a 40 lb shoeless-leprechaun and accessories to the car? Anyone...?
Thank God, or Buddha, hell even thank Muhammad, but thank some deity for Wii Fit and the fact that I have developed some upper body muscles that allowed me to carry all the above to the car somewhat gracefully and without dropping anything...or anyone.
I popped Deirann into her carseat while keeping Devin right beside me on the truck of the car-no need to repeat the water tap incident.
Hmmm...something smells kinda funny. Oh poor Deriann, got change that diaper when I get home.
Run around and pop Devin into her seat.
"Wow, really gotta change that diaper," I think as I lean in to buckle Devin.
"Mummy...can I bring the eggs into show Miss Dance Teacher now?"
The eggs. I forgot about those. I meant to hide them in the front seat before Devin saw them but somehow, I forgot....
Lord, they STINK! And I blamed poor Deirann on the smell....oh that therapist's bill is going to be a doosie!
"Nope, sorry Devin we are heading home." So glad we live close to the Studio cause that was a LOUD, STINKY car ride home.
When we finally get home and I deposit two girls in their grandparents' arms (Rob's folks came for a visit that I of course forgot about) and drag the contents of the car inside, I'm met with "So, what's for dinner?" It is 6:55 pm...hubby has been home for OVER an hour ...without kids....and suddenly can't decide on dinner on his own? I am busted.
"Eggs!" I bark and start to laugh.
Hmmm....I wonder how much my therapist's bill will be?
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