May and June have been a blur, so to alleviate my anxiety that I will forget everything that ever happens if I don't write it down (which, it seems, I will) I have to blaze through and recap those months lest they be erased by the sands of time forever.
In May, we managed to hit no less than three spring carnivals, which provided the usual festive span of hours comprising line-standing, pony riding, bounce house-jumping, and "pond"-fishing. Felicity had a great time at all of them, with the only low moments being when she decided mid-face-painting that she wanted an entirely different design ("No, NO! I don't want to LOOK like a kitty cat! I want a PICTURE of a kitty-cat on my LEFT CHEEK." Sorry, beleaguered preschool dad who was brave-facing it through what was undoubtedly his last choice volunteer slot) and when we got caught in a massive downpour after one of the events (yet miraculously managed to get a cab in the deluge -- thank you, Bloomberg, for the green taxi initiative!).
We also took Felicity to the ballet twice, once for a Family Saturdays presentation at NYCB, and then again on Mother's Day to a full-on, not-kid-oriented NYCB matinee. After the family-friendly presentation, she danced around the Lincoln Center plaza for almost an hour, and roped Joe into doing an impromptu pas de deux with her in front of the fountain. She also staged some complicated choreography that involved her running up and down the plaza stairs and twirling about, while I waiting for my cue to take to stage from behind a column of the Koch Theater. As we were winding down, a lovely older couple came over to us and told us that they'd been sitting in the park across the street watching her, and wanted to tell us how much they enjoyed the show.
The Mother's Day matinee was somewhat less of a rousing success; Felicity was completely absorbed in the first two pieces, but the third one was a long and rather rambling number that did not have the kind of verve to keep even the most hardy balletgoer enraptured (I was yawning my head off about two minutes in), so by the time the fourth ballet (Symphony in C, one of my favorites) came along, we had lost our wee audience member to restlessness. She fidgeted, she demanded snacks, she climbed on and off my lap. I ended up hissing through my teeth at her to STAY STILL AND BE QUIET when she resorted to trying to take her (velcro) sandals off in the Fourth Movement. Which then made her cry (silently, at least) and basically we were just done (also starving). All things considered, though, she did well for her first time at a TWO AND A HALF HOUR performance, and she was still fittingly enthused about it once we were freed from the theater; she danced across the plaza again for such a long time that we had to drag her to dinner.
The end of the month brought a quick succession of Parent Days at her school and various activities. All were as adorable as expected, though the ballet class showcase took it to another level. Those little four-year old tummies in leotards just slay me, and Felicity laid on the charm by darting out of her dance numbers to give me quick kisses and kissing hands before jeteing back into the fray. Their ultimate number was, unsurprisingly, set to "Let It Go" and while I think there was supposed to be choreography involved, the girls mostly flung themselves around, waving scarves and belting out the chorus.
Gymnastics was also fun to see, although I fear that Felicity's long body and limbs are not ideal for this sport. Her teenier classmates flipped and flopped around like mini Olympians, while my girl strained to stay on the foam wedges during her forward rolls. But she loves it, and it makes her wiry body strong, so we're sticking with it as long as we can.
Her school's parent day featured a performance of "The Farm Concert" in which Felicity crossed the stage holding hands with a friend and said "Meow, meow" a number of times. What always gets me about these little shows is how grave some of the kids are, and how seriously they take their parts. It kind of breaks my heart into a million pieces. They also presented us with gifts of handmade paintings and cards embellished with drawings of their families. Is preschool not the cutest thing ever? Heavens.
June has been a whirlwind of birthday parties, a day at the Cloisters and one at Governor's Island, a block party/dog show (which we somehow did not win, despite Felicity's expert skills as Miles's handler), the last day of school (including musical performances that had most parents in tears, plus tiny people in GRADUATION CAPS (not Felicity since she's got another year to go, but I got choked up seeing her little friends in wee mortar boards; next year someone is going to have to hold me up for I will be inconsolable)), a 10K race (for me, cheered on by my support team of two), and a Father's Day trip to the Storm King Art Center with our god-families (I'm godmother to their son, they're godparents to Felicity).
After the Storm King trip, Felicity said, "I feel so loved by everybody!"
And so she is.
(Other love-themed quotables, "Mama, I have a loving heart. I share my love with the world!"; "Mama, this is a love necklace and I'm going to put it on our refrigerator so when people come over, they can see that I love everyone and I'm a loving person."; "I wish ALL our family and ALL our friends [here, she lists basically everyone we know] could live in our house. I just love them all so much! I love thinking about them. Why can't we all live together?")
(The one less adorable moment was when I was putting Felicity to bed and she said, "Mama, when is the baby in your tummy going to come out? Your belly is so big!" I am NOT pregnant. So.)