Showtime

We are all yawning our heads off over here after back-to-back evenings up at school for the United Nations festival - a show the school puts on every two years with each class learning about and performing a dance from a country around the world.
The downside of having one kid in the Junior School and one kid in the Middle School is two seperate shows; but I am not complaining, oh no. Pity my neighbour, who has three kids in three separate shows! They are all yawning muchly I am sure, and grateful that today is the last day of term, as are we.
But before I get onto wahoo-ing about the school holidays and all that they have in store, let me reflect on the last two nights of entertainment. The highs and the lows.

Bear (bare?) with me as I rave (again) about the fabulousness of my offspring...

Dash. His show was up first, his country: Nigeria.

After discovering that he was meant to be dressing as a girl (nuh-uh! not our kid!) and starring in a comedic role, Mr G headed up to talk to the teacher. No drama, all was sorted and his starring role revised. He still had the starring role (his clever teacher harnessing his clownish tendencies) but now he was a boy complete with afro wig. Phew.

Ahhh, this mother's heart burst with pride to see my kid boldly acting his part in front of a packed-out hall. No shyness there at all. His class performance was the stand-out hit of the night. Well done Room 45!

Afterwards, once I'd packed the other two off to bed, my little star's reluctance to go to bed rang some bells.

I starred in a school production once. oh yes. And the let-down after the final night...!

Thankfully my mummy-radar was working tonight and so I invited him to snuggle on the couch sipping milo and talking... a special time for just us to help him return to earth more gently.

Miss Fab. Her Thursday night performance had been rehearsed umpteen times in her bedroom. her country: Australia.

Her knowledge of the pre-recorded) script? Word perfect. In her mind she was the star of the show (and in mine too). She was to dress as an Italian immigrant, complete with fake pizza (Australia is the world's cultural melting pot, dontcha know?)... and then dance enthusastically to Men-At-Work's "DownUnder"...

Scrag had been a nightmare at Dash's show the night before, so we agreed that I would go and video the night, and daddy would stay home with that rascally Scrag.

Do you think I checked how much space I had left on the video disc?? Course not! I knew I had charged the battery, so in my mind I was good to go.

Imagine my horror when I saw the two-minute warning flashing before Miss Fab had even come on??

My heart sank. I did my best, people. I did my best to capture as much of her show-stopping performance as I could squeeze into two measly minutes.

My blunder was only slightly less gut-wrenching than last year's show, when I thought I had captured Dash's fab performance, only to realise to my horror that while I thought I was filming, I had the darn video camera on "pause" the whole time. We ended up buying the performance night DVD. Sigh.

Look who's artwork I spotted hanging near our seat in the hall last night?? Isn't she clever?

Afterwards, Miss Fab and I snuggled on the couch, sipped our milo and watched the pitiful snippets together. She was very calm and gracious about it all, and there were no tears or recriminations (that could still come later when I have to break the news to Daddy, who was asleep when we got home).

I gave my little star the biggest cuddle and squeezed her softy softy warmness, feeling like the dumbest videographer ever.

Don't worry, luv, I reassured her, I will make sure to buy the performance DVD when it comes on sale. Promise.

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