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This past weekend was our city's Our Town festival, which has only maintained it's relevancy in my post-preteen life due to the fact my sister's dance studio has taken to performing year after year. It's kind of their showcase performance before competition season kicks off (next week, but who's counting?). Balancing my sister's dance schedule with Ethan's schedule has been difficult. I may or may not have cried about a scheduling conflict that isn't for well over a month tonight at dinner. I was nearly eleven years old when my sister was born and so I've always felt a little maternal over her. In my years before becoming a mother myself, I'd be the first one signed up to assist twenty girls with hair and make-up for seven straight hours and then sit through five more hours of competition and then about three more hours of award presentations. Something about the fun mixed into the stress of making sure everyone and everything looks just right before hitting the stage and then cowering in a chair with dread that the judges might say something mean. Competition isn't my strong suit.
Though my involvement with my sister's dance studio has had to fade with the new kind of chaos that I live as a toddler mommy, Ethan has joined me in the ranks of being his Aunt Megan's biggest fan. Ethan loves to watch his Aunt Megan dance.
After watching his Aunt Megan perform (yeah, I have a skinny, blonde hip-hop dancing sister -- figure that one out, goodness knows I've given up along time ago!), we moved onto the rest of the Our Town festival -- which is essentially just a glorified carnival filled with rides that you couldn't pay me to go on and food you couldn't pay me to eat. I guess I'm not the carnival kind of girl and, well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
Traumatic toddler events aside (the carousel -- oh, the horror!), it was a Sunday almost too good considering we lost an hour and forfeited a nap. It was the kind of Sunday that was both needed and also a little bit of a tease, considering tomorrow kicks off my husband's busy time at work and I'm likely to be either sobbing in a corner or pulling my hair out at some point over the next couple of weeks. But I'm trying to just keep that in the back of my mind for as long as it remains possible to do so. For now, I'll just say it was a much-needed Sunday, both simultaneously busy and tranquil somehow. Until next year, Our Town.