The Twirl Test

For me, a big part of writing this blog is so that I have a place to process everything that is going on in my family’s life, especially when I have weeks like the past couple where I can’t catch my breath, but for a brief moment.  This past Friday was Josie’s kindergarten graduation which in Catholic schools like hers is a big to-do.  I love that her school makes it so special and memorable for the wee ones of the school and it brought back a lot of good memories from elementary school for me.  But I definitely could have done without the parental stress that comes with the end of the school year.  It really comes down to the fact that all these minute tasks that I am sure many prepared people had thought out much sooner than I had, managed to coincide within a one week time frame.  All these tasks really focus on one common goal- celebrating the end of the school year.  Two tasks that weren’t on my list, but that added themselves on were getting new rear brakes for the Gray Goose and going to the doctor for a sinus infection. One big task that was on the list was outfitting Josie for her graduation mass/ceremony.  Two days before the big day, she and I went out to buy teacher gifts and find just the right dress.  The gifts came easily, the process of convincing my six and a half year old that she had found a perfect dress, not so much.  She settled on one by 9 something P.M. which should stand for Past Mental because that is how I felt when we walked in the front door from shopping.  I practically had to force Josie to officially try the dress and shoes on before her little exhausted self was allowed to go to bed.  It was very clear that this dress just wasn’t “it”.  And the quick shoe try on with Josie sitting in the cart was a huge mistake as they slid right off her heels when she walked in them in our hallway. So the next morning, as we drove Josie to school, I asked her what colors she might like for her graduation dress. 

Later on the boys and I headed to Marshall’s where apparently they have decided to “shrink” the carts to be more mod and hip which meant that there was barely room for the baby’s bucket seat and the other two boys had to walk.  Or in their case, run and dart in and out of racks and dodge other shoppers and wipe out on the shiny linoleum floors with their determined, but done mother muttering all sorts of things at them while trying to find a dress and pair of shoes for their sister’s special day.  As luck would have it, there were all sorts of cute dresses in Josie’s size that must have just been stocked and they were crazy low prices $8.99 and $9.99.  I grabbed six of them reasoning that surely she would like or hopefully love at least one of them and that I could either return the rest or convince my husband that since she is my only daughter, she should get to keep the dresses.  I also managed to find a dress for myself despite the boys’ attempts to get us escorted out of the store.  I guesstimated on the shoes which bit me in the butt later since Josie’s toes were stretching off the front of the sandals, but I was able to easily exchange for the correct size without all the kids along later that evening.

Once Josie hopped into the car at pickup, I brought out the bag of dresses for her to look through.  Her impish smile and the way her eyes lit up when she saw the dresses more than made up for my mommy misery at Marshall’s with the boys. When we arrived home, Josie put on quite the fashion show for me.  The best part of it all, the moment I will savor forever like a snapshot in my memory, was the way Josie looked in the hall mirror and did her little twirl test after putting each dress on.  And when she had decided on “the dress”, I can not even describe how happy I felt. 

Now in contrast to my six and a half year old’s twirl test, I had my own sort of dress test.  One that is common to most women- “does this dress make my butt look big??” as I tried to contort the upper half of my body around to see enough of my rear view to be completely assured that the dress kept my butt in check.  And Josie definitely did not ask anyone the next morning when she put her dress on if her panty lines were showing the way I asked A.J. about mine.  Based on how she was climbing the playground in Chik-fil-a with her brothers and cousins after graduation, Josie clearly doesn’t care who sees her panty lines…or her panties.  Note to self- that girl needs to wear shorts under her uniform next year!