My Stint as a Stage Mom

I'm sure you are picturing me on Toddlers and Tiaras right now, but I don't think I could handle that stage dad they keep showing on the previews. The one who teaches his daughter the "routines"? Please tell me you've seen that. A little disturbing for my taste.

Back to the story: my friend Kathy at Sew Beautiful {who featured Henry and Ollie in her magazine} called me this week to ask if they could model at the Sew Beautiful Conference fashion show. Of course I said yes, like any mother in the world would have, right?

So we get to the Civic Center, pay our $5 to park and find the dressing rooms for the fashion show. There were signs everywhere directing us, the clothes were laid out with names on them, instructions were printed as to what to wear, where to go, how to return, etc. These people have their act together.

Here's the thing I learned very quickly: These People Have GIRLS.

There is a huge gender difference here and I don't know if they pull little girls aside to teach this, but my boys missed the class. They could not give a flying rip about a fashion show. I got them dressed and they were so excited to tear into the cool gifts that Kathy got them for participating.

Here is Henry in his cute Robot smock jumper and extremely loud new whistle. {For your sewing folks, this pattern will be in the November issue of Sew Beautiful. Everyone else *ahem* including ME, please resume below:}

Ollie is wearing the same pattern {rockets and robots}, but from what I can tell, it's a bowling shirt.
On another note, can anyone honestly tell me that they think this child below looks 3? I'll have you know- he is- although he looks 5. I have proof of his age; I was there when he was born.

Here are my guys in their matching outfits. They looked so cute together!

Ollie's gift for participating was a box of legos. Jason felt it was necessary to put them together ASAP. So, here you have my dressing room full of 3 boys.

And we were actually a little early *This. Never. Happens.* and had too much time to kill. Just enough time to get really dirty in other people's clothes.

Finally, the time to go on stage was here. The girls were so excited! They were running down the hallways, primping their hair in the mirrors at the last minute, adjusting their tiaras , etc.
Jason left to go take pictures/ video and I was going to walk the boys down the aisle in case of emergency.
Ollie starts to have a conniption about wanting Daddy. So, they scoot us to the front of the line since I have a screamer.
Please note this is where "Emergency" is declared and I am now walking down the runway with them. Below is the only picture we have of the big event:

Halfway down the L-O-N-G catwalk in front of 300 old ladies people, Ollie spots Jason and jumps off the runway to a gasp in the audience.
All the while Kathy is emcee-ing in the background and describing their outfits.
Henry then sees his moment to shine and starts a full on sprint down the remainder of the walk way. He gets a roar of laughter from the geriatric sewing committee and almost makes it into someone's arms at the end until he turns around and I catch him. And have to carry him back the rest of the way.

As I'm returning with one child on hip and one screaming in the distance, I see a girl with long, curled, red hair in a beautiful pink dress made by her grandmother {I hear Kathy saying}. She knew what she was doing; she walked that runway like she owned the joint. I think she was about 18 months old.

And this is the difference between boys and girls. Is there something in their genetics that makes them pre-disposed to showing off? Or knowing that attention is FUN?
I realize I'm asking these questions like I'm not a girl {and I am, of course}, but when did we learn it?

I should have known better. I learned long ago that Ollie doesn't care about performing at all.
I guess I should be thankful that this was only a $5 lesson {+ free toys, so I'm sure we came out ahead}. And the best part is, I'll have a great blackmail story for his friends in high school.

So that is the story of my short career as a stage mom. Jason summed it up well as we were leaving with, "Aaaaannnnnd I guess they won't be asking us back next year...".