Like my children, I am uninitiated in all the rituals of our new neighborhood school. I wasn't sure what to expect when I received the email invitation to the May Day concert. I decided to ignore the request to bring a picnic blanket or stadium chair, choosing to stand and take pictures instead. I regretted this decision when the concert went longer than the allotted time period and the bright sun set my fire to my head. I also regretted the decision to schedule a doctor's appointment (number three for my swollen nose) for immediately after the concert since "immediately after" the concert ended up being "during the concert."
After an all-school song with hand motions and the dedication of the ceremony to the victims of Japan's tsunami, the kindergarteners got up and performed a dance to music provided by a sound-system and the music teacher's ipod. Josie had told me that her dance was "a little embarrassing" and I tried very diligently to assure her that NO dance is ever embarrassing. However, the look on her face during the performance showed me that she wasn't buying it. She looked embarrassed the entire time.
If you are wondering if our public school has a uniform, the answer is no. We do not. But on May Day + 26, the music department asked all the children to wear white tops and tan bottoms. Josie accessorized her uniform with a home-made bead necklace.
Her friend in the back, decided to get a little more fancy.
I spent more than a few minutes searching for Georgia in the crowd. I didn't find her until the second graders got up to perform their may pole dance.
Sadly, Georgia's group danced at the pole furthest away from me and I was only able to get shots of her back, and only when the groups in front moved close enough to their pole so as to create an opening large enough for me to see the pole behind.
The below May Pole was not Georgia's. The second graders only danced with the ribbons, the third graders (see below) actually made the ribbons into a braid.
I stood watching the kindergarteners and then the first graders and the multi-age class. Next came the second graders, the third and the fourth graders... we were moving right along. It was time for the fifth graders to take their place in front and dance the famous Sword Dance where at the end, their swords are stacked together to make a five-pointed star. I've watched this dance previously at our old school and the stars always get the greatest cheers of the day.
And that's when I looked at the time and realized with a panic that the performance had gone longer than expected and I had exactly three minutes to get back to my car and drive across town to have my nose examined ... again. Since I had called the dermatologist office that morning and BEGGED to be squeezed in for an appointment, I didn't see how I could not show up. With heavy heart and a tremendous amount of mother guilt, I left before the dance even began. I felt terrible. Mind you, Gordy has never once made it to a May Day concert and has never felt guilty at all.
Henry never noticed that I left, but I fessed up to my absence that afternoon at pick-up. He didn't seem to mind. Phew!