the ballet
Did I ever tell you about the time I took Youngest to the ballet?
I'm not sure I did.
I've always wanted to take one of them to the ballet and never could afford it (it's very expensive).
But we are fortunate in that our schools are affiliated/have a relationship with two impressive ballet companies - the elementary school kids have instruction from professional dancers a few times a month as do the middle school kids.
Each year, at Christmas time, tickets to performances are raffled off by these two companies and one year Youngest won a pair for a performance.
Of course, because this story involves Youngest it must also involve some medical detail, and this particular December Youngest had a scary looking mole that had to be removed, surgically, from his chest, on the very day of the ballet.
We went to the plastic surgeon, I took a little white pill and held Youngest's hand and he was still and quiet and good and walked out with 38 stitches. I wobbled out with instructions that nothing should come near his chest for 4 weeks. I don't know if you've ever experienced having a surgical procedure with a child but when I am in that situation I tend to feel what my child is feeling.
Anyway.
Off we went, that evening, to the ballet. I was a little shell-shocked but Youngest seemed okay. We drove into town and parked the car and went to the theater.
We sat with another kid and his mom up in the nose-bleed seats and watched.
You know, ballet for an eleven-year-old boy can be a little boring...and an eleven-year-old boy who just had surgery might fall asleep with his head in his mom's lap as Youngest did. And I can only imagine that, at that point, I was on auto-pilot as I did not scoop him up and take him home. I sat and watched. I figured we might not have the chance to be at the ballet again for a long time and as he seemed comfortable we might as well ride it out.
It was a performance dedicated to George Harrison. It was really breathless in its beauty. I cannot even convey how sweet and light and lovely it was....and I've never found a single photo or video of it on the internet.
I was thinking about it tonight because K is downstairs now, playing Isn't It A Pity on his guitar and the rain is falling softly on our roof and I am remembering that night and I am thinking about how long ago it was and how beautiful the city and the ballet were and how poignant the music was.
Tonight, on our way home, K and I stopped to look at Christmas trees.
Remind me to tell you about the people who sell them near my office.
I'm not sure I did.
I've always wanted to take one of them to the ballet and never could afford it (it's very expensive).
But we are fortunate in that our schools are affiliated/have a relationship with two impressive ballet companies - the elementary school kids have instruction from professional dancers a few times a month as do the middle school kids.
Each year, at Christmas time, tickets to performances are raffled off by these two companies and one year Youngest won a pair for a performance.
Of course, because this story involves Youngest it must also involve some medical detail, and this particular December Youngest had a scary looking mole that had to be removed, surgically, from his chest, on the very day of the ballet.
We went to the plastic surgeon, I took a little white pill and held Youngest's hand and he was still and quiet and good and walked out with 38 stitches. I wobbled out with instructions that nothing should come near his chest for 4 weeks. I don't know if you've ever experienced having a surgical procedure with a child but when I am in that situation I tend to feel what my child is feeling.
Anyway.
Off we went, that evening, to the ballet. I was a little shell-shocked but Youngest seemed okay. We drove into town and parked the car and went to the theater.
We sat with another kid and his mom up in the nose-bleed seats and watched.
You know, ballet for an eleven-year-old boy can be a little boring...and an eleven-year-old boy who just had surgery might fall asleep with his head in his mom's lap as Youngest did. And I can only imagine that, at that point, I was on auto-pilot as I did not scoop him up and take him home. I sat and watched. I figured we might not have the chance to be at the ballet again for a long time and as he seemed comfortable we might as well ride it out.
It was a performance dedicated to George Harrison. It was really breathless in its beauty. I cannot even convey how sweet and light and lovely it was....and I've never found a single photo or video of it on the internet.
I was thinking about it tonight because K is downstairs now, playing Isn't It A Pity on his guitar and the rain is falling softly on our roof and I am remembering that night and I am thinking about how long ago it was and how beautiful the city and the ballet were and how poignant the music was.
Tonight, on our way home, K and I stopped to look at Christmas trees.
Remind me to tell you about the people who sell them near my office.
Comments
Our schools had a yearly grant to take the 4th graders to see the Boston Ballet perform The Nutcracker.
So many parents wanted to chaperone that there was a lottery.
Once, I was lucky enough to get picked.
jbhat
-4
Paola
And I would have missed something lovely.