Though at least one girl has danced each year for the last 7 years, this is the first year all 4 of them are dancing. It is also the first year I signed up for professional picture day. Lately, getting all 4 of them to smile somewhat naturally for me has become a daunting task which usually ends in either bribery or screaming. I really liked the photographer at the studio - he posed them, snapped one shot, and out we went. I may book him for the Christmas picture.
When I look at the picture, I can't help but think back to my childhood. I was a major tomboy when I was little and would never be caught dead in a tutu or leotard. I spent my days with my 2 cousins, Paul and Matt. Our moms were sisters and we lived close enough to each other to share a bus stop. While our moms chatted and tried to figure out how to beat my aunt's MS, we kids were sent outside with strict instructions not to come in unless we were bleeding. We always found plenty to do. We climbed trees threaded with power lines, tied snakes around the handlebars of our bikes and rode those bikes - sans helmets - straight down the middle of their street, and performed ghastly experiments with fire crackers and sunfish. However, with the birth of each of my girls, I have been sucked deeper and deeper into the world of pig tails, giggles, Barbies, and yes, leotards and tutus. I have had a pink cell phone for years and my steering wheel cover in my van was covered in pink hearts. I participated in the chorus of "oohs" and "aahhhs" with the other Moms as their girls walked out of the studio after their pictures. But as soon as we got home, the girls jumped out of the car, put on their "play" clothes, and ran outside to return to their feral roots.