Here she is, my sweet Angel. She's all dressed up in her dance costume making sure everything fits before her recital this weekend. Isn't she beautiful? Any mother would be proud. Here's the problem, this mother won't be at that recital. It's breaking my heart.
In January I had just enough frequent flier miles to book one ticket to Rochester, so I cashed them in for a flight this weekend. It's my sisters annual holiday party which is more like a family reunion since just about everybody shows up. I haven't been able to go in a couple of years, but have known since January that I would be going this year. I've been really excited about it. We have planned all along that D.R. will stay home with Tia, and I will take the baby on my lap. If I purchased a ticket for Tia it would have cost more than $600, highway robbery! Also, I don't think I could handle flying with both of them at their current ages. They are still a lot of work and doing it alone scares even me, the seasoned traveler.
I figured Tia could have some quality Daddy time, and I could have some quality Gia time. No problem, right? That is until a couple weeks ago when Tia's dance teacher announced the date of the recital. Of course it happens to be the one and only weekend I won't be here! I have to admit I'm crushed. It's my baby's very first dance recital!
D.R. isn't your typical Dad. He is very hands-on and is perfectly comfortable getting Tia ready. He has the camera and video camera ready to go. He has already admitted that he will summon my friend Tracy, who also has a daughter in the recital, if he needs help with the hair. I'm not really worried. He'll be just fine.
I'm more worried that Tia will forever hate me for not making it to her first recital. I'm worried that she won't want to take dance again next year so there won't ever be another recital. I'm worried about how much she's going to cry when I get out of the car with her sister tomorrow at the airport, and she finally realizes she's not coming with us.
The practical person in me is saying "She's only 3, she won't remember, and it's no big deal". The Mom in me is saying "It's your little girl and you're not going to be there?! Some kind of mother you are!".
I miss her already and I haven't even left yet.