Stockings, Stories, and Spirit.

Christmas.  CHRISTmas.  Christmas. 

I think about the last 27 times I've gotten to celebrate it.  That's a lot to me.  Maybe not to someone who's 75 years old...but really.  As I think about today, I'm reminded of why this day is so special.  It could be the food.  It could be the neat gifts.  It could be the tradition of Santa Claus and how each morning, as a child, I would haul it to the living room to see what toys were under the tree.  It could be the cool air, the music, the smiles on everyone's faces.  But it's not.  Its the fact that no matter what's going on in your life, you stop and make time for those that you love.  Even wal-mart closes.  Come on people. 

My dad was a jeweler when I was growing up.  Christmas time meant he was scarce around our house and we would always wait on Christmas eve (the night that we would celebrate with his side of the family) until my dad would arrive.  Sometimes it was 10 pm before he got there.  But he always did get there.  And he always arrived with something so special.  When I was 10 years old, it was $100.  Now, $100 to a 10 year old is a lot.  I mean, I thought I could buy a house.  When I was 17 years old, it was a cell phone, and that took the cake.  And now that he's no longer here, I am reminded what this day is all about.  Not too long ago I was also reminded.  When I was faced with the reality of not having my mom here too.  It was like a light switch, but for whatever reason after so much trauma to her heart, God felt like she was still meant to stay here.  And I got her back.  And I'm reminded again, of what today is about. 

My grandma Marcia (my mom's mom) made us all Felt Christmas Stockings to hang during Christmas time.  We always had fireworks stuffed in them.  And now that we're older, those stockings hang at my moms.  My grandma Marcia still makes them, they're great as ever.  I thought that this year, I'd make one for BK3, and start the tradition in my home.  I ordered his on December 1st.  Now, how hard could it be?  It's a kit.  I'm sure it's got pieces and such, but surely, can't be too hard. I 'm crafty.  Well, needless to say the ziploc bag arrived with about 8 pages of colored felt, 6 colors of beads and sequins, and a giant wad of thread.  Not to mention the 6 pages of LEGAL size instructions on how to thread a needle, embroider, applique, chord....wait chord?...and make a pom pom.  Yeah, this may not be easy.  and surely it wasn't.  No glue involved.  Just hand sewing, every sequin, every bead, every edge to every felt piece (that needed to be cut out, by the way).  I got to work and every night once I got home from work, I worked on it.  Sometimes until 1 a.m.  Tuesday of last week, I came home from the grocery to see that Roxie had found the stocking project and made it her latest chew toy.  I was mortified, and it took everything I had not to take her out back and get revenge.  I held back tears, beat the dog, and got back to work on piecing it back together.  I didn't finish this stocking until 3:00 a.m. Christmas Morning.  I was determined to finish it because this is my little Boy.  Although he has no clue what this stocking is or means, it's his.  I'm mom.  And this is our first Christmas together.  It's my first chance to be me, his mom, and do everything to make his day special.  That stocking was part of it. 

While I was working on it some nights, it reminded me of how hard my parents must have worked for me and my brother.  We didn't have much to brag about. Roller Skates or a chalk board were my most memorable Santa Gifts.  But we still couldn't wait to see what it was each year.  And I know my parents cared so much.  My dad would walk in just before midnight, on 48 hours of no sleep, with a smile on his face.  One year, he walked in dressed as Santa.  Really...I complain about a 7 hour teaching day.  Here he was, with not much to spend, and not an ounce of rest.  But going that extra mile for me and my brother.  My mom and dad both did.  It makes me want to work my tail off for this li'l pumpkin.  To be the best I can be for him.  These holidays make it tough without my dad, and without Daddy Brannan's Dad.  Because that part I keep being reminded about?  It's the family that you cherish and the God that you serve.  The songs that you sing together and the stories that you tell when you all are at the dinner table....even though it's the SAME EXACT story you guys told the year before.  It's just as funny.  And nobody cares.  Because the moment you all share is what's most important.  The dinner table.  On Christmas.  Where it's hard not to have a smile.  Unless you're remembering someone you miss.  And it's impossible not to miss - because again.  The part we love so much about this time of year is the memories we make.  The love we share.  The stockings we hang.  The traditions we create and remember for forever.  The stories we tell.  The family that we'll never forget.

I guess that's the best thing about having an angel to watch over you.  My dad will never be late to another Christmas Eve.  He's the guest of honor, and always on time.  As sad as it could become, he's the center of each story told and I know that's God's way of showing me that he's still here.  To remind me to work hard.  To never give up.  To love my little boy the most in life.  To appreciate.  And to thank God for every moment I have with His gracious love and the people who make my life complete.

a weekend away.

I took a job in St Louis doing some choreography for a school out there. I've been doing work for them for a few years, and was looking forward to this trip, since I hadn't gone last year due to the pregnancy.  They're great people - always fun to be around.  Flew out Friday.  Set to return Monday.  I was pretty excited.  Gave Daddy B my good luck wishes, since he was in charge of li'l B all weekend, and I was off on a plane.  And BAM.  Not even 2 hours into the flight and I missed my pumpkin.  Brannan and I had been away from the li'l man several times these past few months.  We even went away to Biloxi 2 months after having him.  I've always been fine.  I kept thinking....ok, you just don't like flying, so you're getting emotional.  Thought it would get better but no.  All I wanted was to hold my li'l man.  Thankfully, I got several picture texts...but that barely broke the surface of the sad face.  Saturday morning comes, Alex and I are eating breakfast at our Hotel and in walks a mom (an Auburn fan, but this is ok), with her husband and 2 kids.  Boys.  The oldest is 3, the youngest, only about 1 month old.  The li'l man starts to whimper and mama pulls him out.  My heart sank.  You could tell she was exhausted.  Still in the 'No sleep' phase and just wanted to eat her hot continental breakfast.  I felt my body actually getting up out of my seat to offer to take the kid from her....Get ahold of yourself Carrie...you're a stranger.  She will probably grab her food, kids, husband and RUN if you reach for her child.  Knowing good and well I didn't care about her chance to eat, but wanted my Pumpkin fix, since I was missing mine so much.  Luckily, about that time, Alex finished her breakfast, and we had to go.  I know the lady thinks I was a stalker.  I stared for at LEAST 10 minutes.  My mouth was probably awkwardly hanging open too....

I made it through the next two days, despite one more minor breakdown learning that BK3 had cut a tooth....without me there; I absolutely could not wait to get onto the flights this morning.  I got to Deb's right in time for my li'l man to wake up for his lunchtime bottle.  It took him just about 5 minutes to realize who I was...I was ok though.  I was there.  He was too.  And that's all I needed. I'll have to say though, what made things so much better was my house.  Daddy B, despite being in charge of EVERYTHING this past weekend (I guess you could say we swapped roles), he had the house clean, laundry done, a new piece of furniture in, dishes washed, and Christmas Presents for me, ALL wrapped, stacked up in a straight stack with a piece of paper taped onto them...reading - ALL YOURS with an arrow pointing down the stack.  I laughed.  Especially since all I asked for this year was clothes, so this oughta be a very fun christmas morning, seeing what he picked out. 

I was up at before dawn, exhausted from a super long weekend of work, and home by 12:00.  Taught from 3:30 to 9:00 and came home to Pizza and the two men I love.  I'm pooped, but the best things in life are with me now.  And I'm so thankful God gave me these things.  Also....for Daddy B's plea on the phone Saturday night... "Babe....I'm exhausted....I've been non-stop since you left."  ;)

The Training Phase...

He's training me...not me training him.

BK3 watching Cartoons Pre-Op

Many of you know about BK3's "bump" on his back.  It's a Cavernous Hemangioma.  Basically, it looks like a reddish/blue mass of spongy tissue just under his neck, between his two shoulder blades.  His pediatrician says it's completely harmless, as long as it's not connected to his spine.  It appeared just after 1 month of life.  About the size of a penny, and a tiny bit raised.  Now, it's the size of a plum, and it protrudes about 3/4 inch from his body.  They say it will just grow, and grow, then once it's finished, will begin to slowly shrink until it's not noticeable.  I made the mistake of looking online at pictures, and saw them as big as cantaloupes.  The one thing I continue to tell myself is at least it's on his back...and not so "in the way". Plus, things could always be worse.  His MRI was scheduled for this week to take a look.  1 - to see if it was attached to the spine and 2 - to see if he had anymore in there that we didn't know about.  I wasn't worried, until they told me he had to be put to sleep for the procedure.  OK...so my baby gets anesthesia.  Whoa.  Suit up mama, this one's gonna be a toughy.  So Wednesday morning was the big day.  We arrived at the General at 6:00 a.m. (side note-me and the baby Teen don't wake up til 8 a.m. most days) but it's not like I slept anyways.  I was petrified.  Punkin was a trouper, he sat in pre-op for 2 hours and watched cartoons, despite being just about starved not having a bottle since the night before.  I really thought anesthesia would get things moving sooner, but again - let's not be a pushy mama.  They got to the part where they come in, wheel us all to the floor with the MRI imaging, then they look at me and Daddy B and say "OK this is where we take him, and you sit".  me:  OK Carrie, smile, and walk away.  This is the part where things have to take place as they do.  Life happens.  Don't be one of those basket-case mamas.  ..... and boy did it work!  I was able to sit, for an hour, and I didn't sweat too badly, or bite my nails.  Just prayed.  A LOT.  BK3 was a champ, he woke up before they got him to recovery, as I heard him screaming while I sat outside the MRI room.  He didn't sound happy.  The techs were "nice" enough to wheel him out, screaming, say "Hey mom and dad we're through, follow us" then move so fast we couldn't really get to BK3 to comfort him...and THEN dump us in the waiting area while he went to recovery alone.  still screaming.  Still can't figure that process out.  We sat in the waiting for 5 minutes, until they called us to come back to be with him....he was still screaming.  Pissed.  Hungry.  Confused.  Poor Punkin.  As I got him to gulp down a bottle and calm down with a wubby, I gave in a promised him 3 more christmas presents.  I mean, he had earned it right?

He woke up from Anesthesia a little congested, but the nurse told us it was quite normal.  He'd lose that throughout the day.  Cool.  I was ready to go.  Not long after, we were discharged, went home and that takes us to part 2 of a 3 part "mommy training" session.

Boss & BK3

Jump to Boss.  Our 92 pound hugely scary, yet capable of no harm what-so-ever Doberman Pincher.  A little over 6 months ago, we went through the long discussion of whether or not to get Boss fixed.  I recall the week very vividly.  I was a VERY pregnant on-the-warpath wife who was nervous about Boss's excited behavior around the newborn.  Daddy B was also thinking about it.  And there were a few other reasons we thought we may want to have ole' Boss fixed.  One was the risk of Cancer in the male parts.  Another was the fact that Boss has ONE dominant trait in that sweet body of his:  He tends to find the weakest male dog at the dog park...and own him.  I'll leave it at that.  And no, I don't mean fight him.  Brannan told me it was up to me to take Boss to Dr. Welch and have a lengthy discussion with him about Boss's fate.  Despite having Boss's surgery scheduled that day, my orders as Boss's "Mom" was to insist on speaking with the Vet before sending Boss to his manhood doom.  I did as I was told.  And had a lengthy talk with Dr Welch about everything Boss-related.  At the end of the convo, I was under the impression that Boss was a sweet dog.  His one dominant trait wouldn't be fixed by "Fixing" since it was already in his demeanor.  And the cancer risk...well it's so low that putting him under would be another just-as-scary risk.  SO....mama decided to let Boss keep his boys.  And this very prego lady walked Boss out the office, put him back in my car, which he had already painted the inside with his dog-hair and told him "You're Welcome".  Daddy B was relieved and here we are.  We notice blood is sprinkling in places near the Dog's room.  Can't figure out who's bleeding.  Finally, I'm holding the baby and keeping Roxie by my side and tell Brannan to play with Boss....hoping the blood would show up.  It did, but we still couldn't figure out where from.  Brannan grabbed a paper towel and let's just say we figured it out...it was coming from his man-part.  Whoa.
Wednesday afternoon, following BK3's MRI, Brannan took Boss to the vet.  OK.  Let's just say after $450 and a gazillion amount of tests run, Boss has an enlarged Man-organ and the suggestion from the vet you ask?  "If you get him fixed, this problem will go away".  Hmm.  Gee.  Really?  Let's add that $180.  Merry Christmas Boss.  Hope you like GIVING your boys away for the Holiday. 

I'm tired. He's having fun.

I went to work Wednesday night and came home to a "sore" Boss, still congested BK3 and a Daddy B who was ready to not be Daddy for the night.  I rocked my tiny tot to bed and put him down for around 10:00 p.m.  I was exhausted, but oh was the fun about to begin.  11:45 p.m.  BK3 wakes up with the haunting wheeze that I had heard just a month before.  I thought I was dreaming.  PLEASE no more hospitals.  I tried everything to get him breathing better.  Finally called the nurse, who heard him wheezing from the phone.  She said to bring him in.  Off I go.  This time alone - I told BK2 not to come....I was getting this shit done now.  So I'm driving 80, praying the whole way.  Get BK3 to the General, for the second time that day.  Triage nurse sees he's wheezing.  And quickly assures me that I'm not crazy.  But guess what, by the time the Dr gets into the patient room....BK3 decides, he can breathe now.  No more wheezing.  YOU'RE KIDDING ME.  The nurse vouched for us but the Dr said it could've just been phlegm from anesthesia, and hitting the cold air helped him clear it up.  So 2:00 a.m., and we head home.  Only for him to start wheezing again....and me to sit up the rest of the entire night and just stare, making sure he's alive ya know?  It's at that moment that I go...wow.  I didn't dive into this mommy hood.  I freaking did a cannonball from the top diving board. I have a 92 pound Dobie bleeding out his pee pee, a 6 month old who likes midnight field trips to the ER, and I'm quickly learning that sleep means absolutely nada.  I'm ok though.  Again...God doesn't give you anything you cannot handle, or laugh about.  I'm still banking on the fact that Boss and BK3 instigated this whole deal together...to see how far they could push me.  And I'm sure it won't be the first time.  It's only the beginning, so buckle up tighter mama.  This toughy ain't nothin'.  The fun has only begun!

A week just being Mom.

About a week since my last post, and boy are things getting exciting.

BK3 had his 6 month pictures, attended his first LSU Basketball game, his first LSU Football game, and enjoyed his first Thanksgiving.  I was blessed to have the entire week off, and boy was it great.  I never would have thought that being a "house-wife" would be something that I'd like to be...but this week showed how much I'd love to not work, and just be a mom.  Did I really just say that?  Too bad the bills need to be paid, and it helps that I love my job.  A few more years of unruly dance moms, and I just might re-think it though...Above all, I love being a wife and mother.  It truly is the best thing in the world. 

6 month pics - I was in hopes that BK3 would be trying his best at redemption after the newborn session, which lasted 6 hours filled with non-stop crying, peeing, crapping (all without a diaper on) and pacing (on mama's part).  It all started out fine, with a good set of family pics, then we started on BK3 alone.  After the 2nd pose, BK3 took a li'l tumble onto the concrete and bumped his head.  AND CUT.  End of photos for BK3.  He was fine, and I was patting myself on the back for not being too worried.  I have a boy.  I should train myself to know he's going to get hurt.  Right?  Luckily, Katy is going to come back in a few weeks and get more of BK3, and the family shots came out great! check her out :  www.katymarshallphotography.com 

1st Basketball game - Tigers played the U of S. Alabama, and even though we're not huge basketball fans, we were excited about it....hello, it's LSU.  We're game.  BK3 loved it.  Stayed awake, alert and happy the entire time.  He even got on the "small fry cam".  We lost in overtime, but all I could think was "please this can't be an omen for Friday's game against Arkansas, or else we won't bring the kid".

Thanksgiving - I loved waking up on Thanksgiving day and going into B's room to tell him it was his first Thanksgiving.  Sure, he had no clue what the hell I was saying.  But it was special to me.  I scolded myself for not having some sort of cute Thanksgiving pajamas for him.  But I quickly got over it.  There's always Christmas... We did the normal "Webb-run" on a Holiday and hit up 3 places before 4:00 p.m., 3 dinners and we all felt like weeble wobbles, including BK3.  In fact, he wouldn't even sit up and play.  The second I'd sit him up, he'd start coughing as if he couldn't breathe, then lay back.  So I did what we all do - unbuttoned his top button on his pants, and let him lounge.  Cured.

LSU v. Arkansas - Boy was it a day.  BK3 was bundled up and ready.  And what a day it was.  Thanks to Mr. Timmy Fontenot, my son got to get eye to eye with a real life (or dead and cooked) hog stretched across our tailgate table.  He grabbed it.  Gross, and thankfully I had hand sanitizer waiting...He loved the game.  Thankfully #2, we had noise-canceling head phones in li'l tike size.  It was LOUD.  But BK3 just got to enjoy the view.  Geaux Tigers!

The weekend ended with Christmas Decorations and house cleaning.  Oh what fun.   You'll see a video below, hopefully it's clear.  BK2 plays with BK3 while Boss tries to get in on the action.  Notice the sound you hear a few seconds in...that's Boss getting body slammed into the wall, so that Daddy can effectively play with BK3.  And he just comes back for more...all outta love.

It was an incredible week.  It makes me look even more forward to the Christmas break, which I know will be full of many more amazing moments with my hubby and our li'l man.  I see how quickly time passes before your eyes, and of course I'd like to put it on pause.  But it's life.  And life goes; you blink and it's all gone.  If it were on pause, there'd be no journey.  So I'm excited to buckle up, and see the many amazing things God has in store for us.  Have a great week back to work/school/whatever it is that you do!

Hot Bubble Baths cure the world's problems.

Ever since I can remember, I've always been a fan of hot bubble baths...now more than ever.  It can be 97 degrees outside in the humid Louisiana August, and I'll still crave the hot bubble bath at the end of the day to just RELAX.  Can I get a HELL YEA?  Today, it was needed.  Let's see.  BK3 turned 6 months old on Thursday.  It's already been 6 months....just seems like yesterday I was balancing smoothie cups on my belly in between dance classes... Each day that goes by proves to me that women are unbelievable creatures - moms especially.  I saw a handkerchief in the DS Antique Village today that said this "Three Wise Women", The 3 wise women would have...asked for directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, cleaned the stable, made a casserole, brought practical gifts, and there would be peace on Earth.

How fitting?  Saturday morning, this idea was proven completely true.  I had to work 1 hour on Saturday morning.  I woke up early, fed the baby his bottle, made sure Daddy was up, then kissed them both and headed out.  "I'll only be gone an hour and a half!".  That was at 9:10 a.m., and as I was driving back around 10:45 a.m., I called Daddy B and asked him what was up.  He had just laid the baby down to nap.  All within 3 seconds, I made a realization.  Carrie - you didn't leave Daddy B with instructions....Here is our dialog-

Me:  Babe, did Brannan eat breakfast? (He's eating 3 solid meals a day now, like humans do)
BK2:  Um....wasn't that his bottle that you gave him?
Me:  No...babe, he has to EAT.
BK2:  Well, I didn't know he was hungry.  And you didn't leave me a schedule.
Me:  Ok.  -____-

I'm sure whatever Mamas that are reading this are saying "Been there, done that, and it doesn't get any better!" lol.  But it proves the handkerchief truth. 

This weekend was busy.  Full of exciting "non-work" related events, which is awesome.  I didn't get any extra sleep, which is not awesome, but it leads me to my awesome hot bubble bath.  I've been looking forward to it all day.  Just a chance to relax and not have to think about anyone's schedule, who needs to eat, burp, nap, poop (has he pooped yet today?), teethe, take the garbage out (cause it runs tomorrow), clean out the pantry, clean the bottles, sweep up the dog hair....ok I'm getting carried away.  But you get the picture?  It's beautiful how just a chance to "not think" can put you in a better mood...not to mention the bubbles, and super hot water.  NICE.

And to finish off the awesome experience, I exit the bathroom to hear Daddy B saying "Good Catch DUDE!" to BK3. I'm wondering...what the hell?  The kid can barely grab a toy, much less catch something....Peek around the corner to see BK3 perched in Daddy's recliner.  Daddy B standing 6 feet away with BK3's plush football, tossing it to him.  I would've let them enjoy their Father - Son time, except Boss kept trying to ruin it by grabbing the football before BK3 could figure out to grab it.  I mean, I also didn't want Boss's saliva all over it too, but oh well.  So I say "Hey Hey, Boss...no" when I immediately get cut off by Daddy B, who pleas "BABE!, Let him play....Boss is the defense..."


Good Night!

Word to the wise.

I was driving home from Revolution tonight and I was meditating on a few things that had crossed my mind.  All of the situations gave me negative feelings, but I kept on thinking about them.  Until I saw a giant flash of lightening that covered the sky for a split second.  "Knock knock Carrie...God here.  Stop allowing the negative in.  Focus your thoughts in the right place, and things will change..."  That lightening was beautiful.  Scary, but beautiful.  And it's amazing how God's creation slapped me in the face like that.

So it reminds me.  I am a dance teacher.  I own a dance company.  The show "Dance Moms" makes me cringe for several reasons:
1.  It portrays the dance community in a way that isn't very likable to parents who may want to think about dance for their young children.  Soccer is looking better and better...
2.  It shows other parents of dancers that people actually act this way.  You'd think it would turn them off right away because the behavior is just down right ridiculous...but no....it gets people thinking.
...thanks Abby Lee.

I deal every day with the joys and the craziness.  Like everyone, there are things that I LOVE about my job, and things that I hate.  Mostly...the things that I hate all have to deal with the first paragraph of this blog:  the negativity that people cannot get away from; the same negativity that will change an attitude, bring out the worst in someone, and ultimately ruin the opportunities for your child - all because people just love some good gossip, or a little sweet revenge. 

And really - is that what we're in the business for?  Cause I sure am not.  My job is to teach a kid to dance.  Because I love it.  And can't live without it.  And I love that it's my job.  I don't sit at a desk.  I get to move, stay fit, listen to music, and create.  Be an artist...and teach others how to.  Too bad the amazing part of the job also has to come with the crap.  And honestly, there is no crap specifically right now (because I'm sure anyone reading this will be like "WHOA WHATS GOING ON" and then no telling what will spread like wild-fire, again refer to first paragraph). 

I love that so many people want to spread the good news of dance.  All dance teachers are unique in their own way.  The one thing we all share is that we love this art so much, that we're willing to devote our lives to it.  And boy does so much come with that.  Coffee talk with dance teachers is like a freaking soap opera / jerry springer / monday night pokeno . The most amazing, shocking, and crazy stories you'll ever hear.  Down-right entertaining.  So I guess I speak for all dance teachers when I say this....

We're like Santa Claus.  We hear everything.  We see everything.  We know when you lie to get your way...and we can smell a "dance mom" coming from a mile away.  That rhymed.  And truly, if you're good, we give you great things.  If you're nice too...it's even better.  Kids love dance, and our dancers love this world of competition, conventions and solos (can't forget solos).  So, really.  Be nice to everyone.  Don't hold grudges.  Be positive.  And don't worry.  When negativity gets in the way, remember that it promotes nothing but negative.  Negative sucks....and so does a sickled foot.

...refer to first paragraph.

Toting the Tot....

The past two weekends have been super busy for us - last weekend was the first solo & duet/trio competition for my dancers. It was held in Lafayette.  This weekend was our first group competition, held in Biloxi.  Since August, we've been choreographing and rehearsing these pieces.  Needless to say the two weekends were two much anticipated events, preceded by endless hours of rehearsal, and lots lots lots and lots of stress.  BUT they came, and are done.  I'm a happy dance teacher, they're accomplished dancers, and the first two competitions are out of the way for the new season.  Onto January! 

Baby Brannan came with me last weekend, as Daddy Brannan was cheering on the Tigers at the University of Alabama.  I didn't even for once stop to think if I would be capable of bringing BK3 by myself to a dance convention / competition.  I just did it.  Yep, I'm a mom.  It's that mentality of "I'll make it happen" that kicks into gear when faced with a challenge.  Needless to say, packing with a 6 month old takes a bit longer than ever before (minus the tot).  Once I got to Lafayette, things were 90 to nothing, but I had amazing help (Thanks Dance Moms).  I love that BK3 cures their "Baby Fix" and allows me some time to take a deep breath.  Saturday, the game of the century: LSU played Alabama and I wasn't missing this for the world.  We had all talked about checking out a local family sports bar/restaurant down the road from the hotel.  I was ready.  We were ready.  Until BK3 decided he'd rather an evening of constipation and "I don't want to eat my veggies yet I'm still going to scream because I'm hungry" attitude.  It was 6:30 p.m. (the game was starting in 30 minutes) and I had a choice to make.  No sports bar for us.  Burgers and a cocktail turned into Prune Juice and Papa Johns for me and the munchkin.  Oh well...at least he finally pooped (yay for that!) and I was able to relax...do we see a theme here?

This weekend, we were fortunate enough to leave BK3 behind.  Brannan and myself, off to Biloxi for an entire weekend. HALLELUJAH.  Thought I'd feel bad leaving him behind...but nope.  This was needed.  Although it was a weekend of no sleep (but not because of a baby), work, and dancing, I was ready and excited for it.  A nice dinner at the Beau Rivage and a few hours in the casino was our Friday night.  Saturday and today filled with Dancing and GOOD dancing might I add.  My dancers received top honors at a competition filled with incredible talent, and I left a happy teacher.  Side Note:  a SORE and IN PAIN teacher I was...due to my quest to take classes for the first time in a year, and since having a child.  WOW that reality check was a quick one...Of course I missed my cutie-pie and was so excited to see him by 6:30 p.m.  His li'l face lit up when he saw us....made my heart melt.  Yep....life has changed. 

Hope everyone has a great week :)