I’ll admit that I’m a fan of the show Dance Moms.
Mostly because of all the drama and how those moms make anything I have to deal with on a daily basis seem so calm in comparison. And hey, it might even make my own behavior seem more acceptable, too.
Two of my boys started taking hip hop this year. Don’t call it dance, it’s hip hop.
There’s no smack talk or cutthroat moms in the observation room. Mainly because there is no observation room: we drop off our kids at one door and pick them up at the other, no parents allowed in the studio except for one observation day.
Plus, I have boys, so it’s just a different vibe. At least with dance. Let’s not get started on recent soccer tryouts.
This weekend was recital weekend and um… is everyone a crazy dance mom?
There was the dad who had a screaming fit because he couldn’t see his dancer from the angle where he was trying to video the dance because of one of the teachers on stage (there to help out since it was for the itty bitty dancers). You know, even though it was the same position where his dancer and the teacher had been the night before at rehearsal, but he done told the studio owner to fix that. Instead of, oh, say, videoing from another angle.
The grandma who knew every soloist’s family and had much to say about why those dancers got solos instead of her precious angel and why some dancers made the company and why others didn’t. Even though every single solo was so good and the company dancers were amazing.
The mom who complained about every last little thing and was planning, outloud, the strongly worded facebook post that she was planning on putting on the company’s page. But she decided she’d wait until later and instead fussed at the studio owner in the hallway.
Then there were the roses and other flowers, stuffed animals, and all sorts of trinkets that it didn’t even occur to me to have because boy mom. Which hey, I have no problem with those being a part of the day- but the you’re really not going to give them anything, don’t you know you can go buy something out in the lobby if you forgot? I could have done without.
Though I have to admit that I seriously considered, right before my boys’ number started, turning around and telling the family behind me to shut the heck up. That they’d been talking loudly non-stop for the first hour and a half or so of the recital so far, and that I’d like to get video of my boys dancing without having to edit out their stupid loudmouth comments. So, you know, crazy dance mom here, too.
And like any good dance mom, I think my boys did the best. Boys dancing- you just can’t beat that.
Disclaimer: I think most of the parents were lovely and all of the kids did a fantastic job. It’s just that the annoying few stick out because they tend to be ever so much louder than the well-behaved majority.