Wicked Popular

In 2006 I wrote about how one of my sons and I sang For Good from the Broadway show Wicked in a musical review.

And how I barely made it through the performance without sobbing. Because I have been changed because I know him.

In 2009 I wrote about how a dear dear friend sent me a mix of songs which included Defying Gravity from that same musical. Which led to me lifting my daughter high in the air while we danced to this song and, of course, causing me to cry. Because I don't want anyone to bring her down.

So, incredibly, this past weekend, I finally saw a touring production of Wicked thanks to my fabulous sister-in-law. You would have thought by now I had actually seen it live and on stage. And we brought that 5 year-old girl I lift in the air.

Which led me to sob uncontrollably as Act I ended and Elphaba (the green witch) flies up singing "tell them how I am defying gravity". And led to my daughter to wipe my tears with her fancy party dress. And her winter coat. And then hug me. Causing many strange women around me to go "awwwwww......"

But that wasn't the song that grabbed my daughter. It wasn't the song that she sang over and over in the car.

No, that would be the song Glinda the Good Witch sings to Elphaba when she decides to "help" her.

Popular
I'll help you be popular!
You'll hang with the right cohorts
You'll be good at sports
Know the slang you've got to know
So let's start
'Cause you have a long way to go....

As she awoke the morning after seeing the play, literally the first words out of my daughter's mouth was "one, two, three BALLGOWN!!" as she waved a (practice) magic wand. Then she giggled and sang a little of Popular. Complete with hair swishing.

She made her aunt and uncle play the newly purchased cast recording on CD as she pranced around their kitchen.

"Someday she'll get the irony" my sister-in-law said in a slightly hopeful, with a tinge of concern, tone in her voice.

But I know she will. Because as the play ended the day before in this incredibly grand and old theater, my little lady in her fancy party dress climbed into my lap. Earlier in the day she had expressed concern about seeing Wicked because she was scared of the green witch.

Now she clutched my neck and hid her face. Because she didn't want to see the green witch die from the bucket of water.

The play begins and ends with the line "no one mourns the wicked".

Fortunately, a little five year old did. Even if she does want a practice magic wand.

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"Get that shotgun"

I followed my four-year-old into the large box store to buy snacks for the kids going to the child care at the convention this weekend. She just strutted in, swishing her multi-layered skirt with her butterfly shirt and citrus-fruit rain boots. Her blond curls bounced as she held her head up high.

An older black couple were walking out of the store. The gentleman followed little lady with his eyes and just smiled. This big, huge smile.

The lady looked down, shook her head, then looked me in the eyes.

"Ooooooooo...." she said as she clicked her tongue. "You better get a shotgun right now!"

"Yes I do ma'am" I replied with a big laugh.

And little lady just strutted even more.

Look of horror

When did 4-year-olds have such loud opinions?

I'm happily making the switch from cold-weather clothes to those lovely, light, airy summer outfits. Linens, colorful cottons and sandals are coming down from the attic into the closet (or rather the bottom of the attic stairs which doubles as Amazing Guy and my shared closet. THAT is a true test of a marriage).

So I came downstairs ready for work in tan linen pants and a boxy linen black short sleeve shirt. I particularly like this shirt because the round buttons are huge. Little lady was laying on the couch after agonizing that the "perfect" dress which makes her look like a princess was in the dirty clothes. The "perfect" dress she tries to wear every single day.

"Pbbthb [an approximation of the noise that came out of her mouth]. You are wearing THAT?" she asked incredulously with a look of sheer horror on her face.

I would like to point out, again, that my daughter is 4 years old.

Not 14.

"What?" I defensively reply. "You don't like this shirt? You think it is too square?"

Wait a minute, I think. I'm defending my clothes to a 4 year old.

I can only imagine when she is 14.

Squirrel in the bedroom

"Mama! I see a squirrel in the bedroom!"

Huh? I think.

My 4-year-old daughter nearly falls over in glee if my work outfit for the day involves "tip toe shoes" (what she calls heels) and a skirt (she's given up on me putting on the green sequin dress I wear for super formal weddings).

Last week, after leaving her in her bed for a few more minutes of warmth under the covers, I hear hollered from her room:

"Mama! I see a squirrel in the bedroom!"

Huh? I think while putting on a straight pencil skirt with my black tip toe shoes.

Keep in mind we hear squirrels scampering on our roof. We hear them in the attic although let's pretend that isn't happening. But - oh no - there is a squirrel in my baby's bedroom.

"WHAT?!" I yell as I try to keep my skirt on as I rush down the hall, tripping over those tip toe shoes.

The blond curls pop out from under the covers.

"Mama, I want to see you twirl!"

Oh. Of course. I pull my outfit together and spin around. But the pencil skirt doesn't flair out.

Little lady looks very disappointed. The look says "what is the point of wearing a skirt if it doesn't twirl?"

But at least there wasn't a squirrel watching me twirl.

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday darling one,

Something has happened to you. Less than a year ago, you refused to wear dresses. This stance lasted through your second year of life and into your third.

Then, suddenly, you got your girl on.

And are you ever a girl.

Now you talk about boyfriends, wearing white at a wedding and wearing "tip toe" shoes (what you call high heels). You practically fall over from glee when you see me in a dress and high heels and try to convince me to wear them every day. I generally refuse, much to your disappointment.

During the play earlier this month, the woman who put make-up on the cast put a little rouge and eyeshadow on you. You were amazed that there was a whole world of colors to put on your face. I can't wait for you to figure out just how inept I am at make-up.

Fortunately your regular boyfriend is "Ladies' Choice" - that is what you think the young man's name is in a music clip from the movie Hairspray. So you talk on your toy cell phone to Ladies' Choice. "Hi Ladies' Choice. Should I meet you at the coffee shop? O.k. Mom I'm going to meet Ladies' Choice at the coffee and you can't come."

But he has competition. You are quite smitten with the lead singer from the A-Ha video, Take on Me. Of course, I think those Norwegian boys are pretty good-looking too so I understand your smitten-ness.

So I have a deal for you. As long as these boyfriends stay on the screen and in a toy cell phone, you can have all the boyfriends you want.

Until you are 32 years old.

And then we'll talk.

Love,
Mom

What filled the eyes of little Miss when informed she couldn't wear a dress and tights for the outdoor Easter Egg hunt because it is too cold

Tears

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Mommy's helper

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Happy Birthday

As I was walking into the house from dropping the boys off at school my husband yells,

"Don't come upstairs!"

Then I hear quietly,

"Let's finish putting it on. She'll be so surprised. Be sure to say 'Happy Birthday'".

"I say 'Happy Birthday'? To Mommy?"

"Yes, to Mommy."

Then, "O.k you can come up!" and who comes barreling around the corner but my daughter. In a dress! A dress that was too small with marker stains. She picked it out herself. If you recall she had been boycotting dresses all fall.

"I pretty!" she declared. "Mommy, don't cry."

Truly a happy birthday.

Dresses

My daughter panics at the thought of dresses.

She loves to pick out her clothes and the outfit usually involves a t-shirt and leggings or tights. You should see her face as she rubs her hands over her legs in tights. The oh-its-smooth look.

Her favorite shoes are bright red and too small for her feet. Add patterned socks and she's pretty much a visual mess but inside very, very happy.

My aunt told me during a recent visit that she wishes she had let her daughter pick her clothes more often. As a mother in the 1960's she worked hard to have my cousin in hand-smocked dresses and pretty outfits.

A few days later my mother declared "Who would let a 2-year-old pick out her clothes?" with that sting only a mother can pull off.

So I put my daughter in a dress last week since we were seeing a friend of mine for the first time in over a year and I certainly wouldn't let a 2-year-old pick her clothes. She fought a hard and strong fight while getting the dress on. Then she ran to a wall, crouched into a ball and sobbed - heaving, gut-wrenching sobs - as she pulled and tugged at the dress. I promptly scooped her up, apologized over and over, and took off the dress. She wore a t-shirt for the visit.

I promised her then and there that she can pick her clothes. I'll make sure there are layers when appropriate so she doesn't catch pneumonia. A dress doesn't have to go on her body until she wants to wear one.

And she is the most stylish, forward thinking dresser in the family.