January is almost over. I chalk it up to the worst month ever. I mean, it was not January’s fault. But the combination of sickness (and morning sickness… whose name I’ll never understand and would be quick to change to morning, noon, and night sickness… oh, yeah, did I mention I’m PREGNANT again?!!!!) and Andrew’s sudden change in work schedule (meaning, he has to work a lot again) along with Oliver completely giving up naps AND not sleeping well at night = hell. I tried and tried to be positive and finally gave up and felt miserable and reminded myself that this too shall pass.
And it has. Mostly. January is almost gone. My morning sickness is not gone, but definitely more manageable. I am 12 weeks pregnant, which means that MAYBE I will start feeling better in about a week. And Oliver has started taking naps again. And we are getting really excited to find out more about baby #3.
So. Lost in January was the blog I was supposed to write about the rest of our travels in Ohio. Most importantly, the one thanking Andrew’s sister-in-law Annie and brother Billy for housing us for an entire week and putting up with all of our antics. And the visit from Billy a couple of weeks later without Annie. I will get to that at least. But first… today.
Today was Milo’s first ballet class. A couple of months ago, he came to me out of the blue and asked if he could take ballet. Thinking he didn’t really know what ballet was, I offered to take him to watch a class at COCA, the local performing arts center a few blocks away from our house, where to my surprise, he sat mesmerized for 30 minutes straight. Then he looked at me with a concerned face and said, “Mom, can boys do ballet too?” Heck yeah. And so, after dragging him out practically kicking and screaming with big tears glistening on his face (he had thought he was going to start that very day), we signed him up.
Today I really had no idea what to expect. But Milo was confident and excited, and led me to believe that any rambunctious, active little boy would of COURSE want to take ballet. It was magnificent. My wild and crazy little guy listened so well. He plied with gusto. He leaped with fervor. He tippie-toed and danced and concentrated so well. And a huge grin was pasted on his face for the entire first 20 minutes.
Until they passed out the tutus. To everyone except Milo. He stood off to one side, knowing that he wasn’t going to get one (we had talked about this probability) but obviously feeling some sort of injustice. Instead, Ms. Sarah handed him a blue banner thingy which he did NOT like. He covered his eyes with both hands, clearly disappointed, and stepped off to one side, not participating. I hovered on the edge of my seat. Should I intervene? Reassure him? I stayed put. About a second later, he was over it. And back in action. Whew.
And so, with the help of a little dancing, we pull ourselves out of January and march on.
Well done, young soldier.