I'm with David Sedaris on this one

Being exhausted and having some GI problems can really take the spitfire out of a person.

Saturday (early) evening I was extremely fatigued, but still raring to go with a deliciously crude reflection on my daughter's dance recital. Two hours of unplanned and unavoidable bathroom time did me in, though, so now I have what will be a wimpy and not nearly as vivid blog post.

My book club read Holidays on Ice in December 2008 and had a great time discussing "Front Row Center with Thaddeus Bristol," in which Sedaris points out all that is ludicrous about children's holiday pageants and how their parents just lap it up. I found myself one of the few readers who totally agreed with the critical nature of the essay. I couldn't help think of all the biting comments in this essay throughout N's dance recital on Saturday.

The recital, given that it was a performance of amateurs, was pretty involved. The logistical planning was more than a little mind-boggling, especially as it involved many, many, many young kids. It was a good show and made N even more interested in dance than she already was.

But it was, in my humble opinion, entirely too god-damned long. We arrived at 1:45 and didn't get home until after 8:00, and we left at intermission of the evening performance since N was done with her dances. And because the afternoon show ran long we didn't get a chance to eat dinner because they had to move straightaway to the evening performance. So Pa plied N with M&M's, and I survived on water.

Suffice it to say, by the time 8:00 rolled around, I was an extremely tired, hungry and bitchy pregnant woman.

I was just done with all that was overdone. I know I sound like an old-fogey, but when I was a kid we didn't have performances like this that last a veritable eternity. We didn't have program books with pictures of us, the dancers. We didn't receive trophies and ribbons. We didn't receive bouquets of flowers or special stuffed animals from parents and grandparents.

All of this....nonsense takes away from what could be a nice simple recital. But this recital was a performance. I saw the fucking Kirov Ballet in London perform Swan Lake and it wasn't as overdone with flowers and programs and bows. But from talking to other moms I know, it sounds like most dance studios do something similar. Maybe not quite as long or involved, but similar.

I know there is no point in fighting a losing battle. If every other parent, or the majority of parents do it, I will be compelled or guilted into doing it. N cried because she didn't get flowers like many of the other dancers did, and my heart didn't bleed at all. Which may mean I have no heart.

I just value different things. I bought her a corsage for her preschool graduation because I wanted to show her that going to school and learning is valued and special. A graduation is a momentous occasion. A dance recital is fun, but not flower-worthy. At least not until she's put 5, 10 or 15 years into it. I feel rather like Elaine Bennis as I type this.

I was very proud of N for getting up on stage and performing. For trying to do her best. For being well-behaved during the performance. She had a good time, and therefore, I will likely suffer through this shit next year.

At least I won't be pregnant.