It is the nearing the end of the school year, and that can only mean one thing: a seemingly endless string of performances for which we are ill-prepared. Of course I love every second of the half dozen 3-hour shows in which my child appears for a total of 2 minutes and 40 seconds.
This year, we know better than to plan trips during this time, since many of the dates will be conveyed to us by the directors (or our own children) only at the last moment. For instance, I am writing this very sentence on June 25, with only 6 school days left, and I am just realizing that I have no idea when Gigi's theater class production will be. [Ed. update: it's tomorrow, on June 27, so at least she hasn't missed it.]
Gigi gets in a panic over costumes for a dance performance at school, for which she's been choreographing and rehearsing for three months, yet somehow the night before the dress rehearsal, we are still scrounging for costumes. And, oddly, you would be amazed at how difficult/impossible it is to find plain white T-shirts for kids in Paris, even at the kind of stores that sell cheap basics. I am told, "Ah, we are out of white T-shirts, because it is no longer T-shirt season. It is tank top season." Pause. "Plus, all the children who need them for end-of-year costumes have bought them out." Yes. Those would be the families who did not wait till the last second. Thanks for rubbing that in.
In the end, we find her a white tank top she can write "Les Trois Girls" on for her performance (because it's much cooler than the true French "Les Trois Filles"), after she gives away to her fellow dancers the two good T-shirts that I had managed to find. For the second plain white T-shirt she needs, she therefore wears the rather tight size 4-5 T-shirt found at the bottom of her little sister's drawer.
At the school performance, Anthony gets an extra special show when the mother sitting right in front of him holds up her smartphone in camera mode to take pictures, but accidentally clicks on an album of naked photos of her crotch. My husband tells me he's not sure who she is, but he is sure she isn't the kind of person whose private parts he really wants to see in public -- or private, for that matter. After the unwanted groinal exposure (in a Catholic school no less), he goes on to enjoy Gigi and her classmates in a West Side Story medley. "I Want to Live in America" sung in real French accents with fake Puerto Rican accents is my particular favorite. And, if you've ever had the thought while watching the Jets fight the Sharks that a bunch of theater boys dancing and singing is not the most terrifying of gang conflicts, you should see the entire thing staged by a bunch of fifth graders, including four in glasses, one slightly Aspberger's spelling savant, one on crutches, and one in a wheelchair.
The day before the free, outdoor hip hop show that the girls do for the Fête de la Musique on June 21st, we find out what the rest of the families have known all along, somehow: that there is another hip hop performance on the 30th. We are currently scrambling to get tickets, add it to our schedule, and figure out how to gracefully avoid going to the mandatory rehearsal on the 29th for which they have schedule conflicts.
At kermesse -- the end of year school carnival, I do some face painting, Gigi does her West Side Story medley and "Les Trois Girls" routine, and Pippa does her own class song and dance performance. We then literally run from the school over to the gymnastics gala, where they both perform. Pippa's group does a tango number which uses plastic roses I searched for in a panic a week ago and finally found at a local funeral home. Then we run home to rest up so Pippa can do a gymnastics competition early the next morning (and yes, thanks for asking, she does very well; she has improved so much from last year she is now one of the strongest, on a more advanced team).
I know we're not done yet, since there's still one more hip hop show, Gigi's theater class performance, and my own hula show at a restaurant (though I have to miss two other hula performances this week because of conflicts). Let's add in four birthday parties, visiting cousins, the final week of school, and last-minute summer vacation planning, and now it's a real Spectacle Debacle.
This year, we know better than to plan trips during this time, since many of the dates will be conveyed to us by the directors (or our own children) only at the last moment. For instance, I am writing this very sentence on June 25, with only 6 school days left, and I am just realizing that I have no idea when Gigi's theater class production will be. [Ed. update: it's tomorrow, on June 27, so at least she hasn't missed it.]
Gigi gets in a panic over costumes for a dance performance at school, for which she's been choreographing and rehearsing for three months, yet somehow the night before the dress rehearsal, we are still scrounging for costumes. And, oddly, you would be amazed at how difficult/impossible it is to find plain white T-shirts for kids in Paris, even at the kind of stores that sell cheap basics. I am told, "Ah, we are out of white T-shirts, because it is no longer T-shirt season. It is tank top season." Pause. "Plus, all the children who need them for end-of-year costumes have bought them out." Yes. Those would be the families who did not wait till the last second. Thanks for rubbing that in.
In the end, we find her a white tank top she can write "Les Trois Girls" on for her performance (because it's much cooler than the true French "Les Trois Filles"), after she gives away to her fellow dancers the two good T-shirts that I had managed to find. For the second plain white T-shirt she needs, she therefore wears the rather tight size 4-5 T-shirt found at the bottom of her little sister's drawer.
At the school performance, Anthony gets an extra special show when the mother sitting right in front of him holds up her smartphone in camera mode to take pictures, but accidentally clicks on an album of naked photos of her crotch. My husband tells me he's not sure who she is, but he is sure she isn't the kind of person whose private parts he really wants to see in public -- or private, for that matter. After the unwanted groinal exposure (in a Catholic school no less), he goes on to enjoy Gigi and her classmates in a West Side Story medley. "I Want to Live in America" sung in real French accents with fake Puerto Rican accents is my particular favorite. And, if you've ever had the thought while watching the Jets fight the Sharks that a bunch of theater boys dancing and singing is not the most terrifying of gang conflicts, you should see the entire thing staged by a bunch of fifth graders, including four in glasses, one slightly Aspberger's spelling savant, one on crutches, and one in a wheelchair.
The day before the free, outdoor hip hop show that the girls do for the Fête de la Musique on June 21st, we find out what the rest of the families have known all along, somehow: that there is another hip hop performance on the 30th. We are currently scrambling to get tickets, add it to our schedule, and figure out how to gracefully avoid going to the mandatory rehearsal on the 29th for which they have schedule conflicts.
At kermesse -- the end of year school carnival, I do some face painting, Gigi does her West Side Story medley and "Les Trois Girls" routine, and Pippa does her own class song and dance performance. We then literally run from the school over to the gymnastics gala, where they both perform. Pippa's group does a tango number which uses plastic roses I searched for in a panic a week ago and finally found at a local funeral home. Then we run home to rest up so Pippa can do a gymnastics competition early the next morning (and yes, thanks for asking, she does very well; she has improved so much from last year she is now one of the strongest, on a more advanced team).
I know we're not done yet, since there's still one more hip hop show, Gigi's theater class performance, and my own hula show at a restaurant (though I have to miss two other hula performances this week because of conflicts). Let's add in four birthday parties, visiting cousins, the final week of school, and last-minute summer vacation planning, and now it's a real Spectacle Debacle.
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