Photo ©2010 MikiodoThanks to the whirlwind of activity surrounding the Gala, the regular routines of life have been thrown off for about the last month and a half. Taro has been working in extreme overtime mode, family and friends have come in from out of town, and of course there was lots of shopping and primping and getting ready for all of us to do. Post-gala, Taro had tons of follow-up at work and there was an Our Time Board meeting last night that required a lot of preparation. It was all worth it (the Gala raised far and away more money than ever before for this great organization, and the show was a fun, moving, inspiring, entertaining success) but I've remained drained all week and I can't wait for the weekend to really regain my equilibrium and feel like we're a family again!
I'm still collecting photos of the gala, so I'll be sure to post about our outfits, etc. soon. Meanwhile, suffice it to say that no matter how much you prep, there will be unexpected outcomes when you are trying to dress yourself and two little boys under the age of three for a festive event :)
W ended up wearing a version of the Option B outfit I blogged about earlier. I say "a version" because in the shuffle to get to the theater on time, sadly the tie never made it on to him. Not that it mattered, because he was asleep in the sling practically the whole evening! He did wake up for part of the show, which he enjoyed watching a little too much -- he started squealing and chatting in response to the performances -- so I stepped out into the lobby for a bit. While we were there, bouncing and watching the show on a TV monitor, my friend Jen appeared and she kindly took over holding W so I could go back to my seat and watch the show. Anyway, I'm glad I took pictures of his outfit last week, because it was not documented at all on Monday night.
There's kind of a saga surrounding J's outfit, which I have to share with you: About six weeks ago we were browsing in the new TJ Maxx that just opened in our neighborhood. J was in his stroller as we went through the isles, and all of a sudden he pointed out a rack of toddler-sized suits. He really liked them. He said they looked like Daddy's, and that he wanted one. I was skeptical, but he seemed extremely excited about it (and the suit was super-cute and a total steal) so I went ahead and bought it, thinking that it would be perfect for the Gala. J was really looking forward to the event, so he instantly took to the idea of dressing up for it, and he even went so far as to try the suit on in its entirety (shirt, tie, jacket, and pants) as soon as we got home from the store. He looked amazing, and he knew it. Beaming, he helped me put everything back on the hanger and into the closet where it remained for weeks, waiting for the big night.
On Monday, J's nap started veering dangerously close to the time that we needed to leave. I was mostly ready myself, just waiting for him to wake up and get dressed before I put on my dress and shoes. Eventually I had to encourage him to wake up, and as any parent knows, a curtailed nap is never a good thing. But poor thing, he knew that we were heading to the long-awaited Gala so he fought through the crankiness of his premature wake-up and let me dress him without opposition. Still, there were pitiful tears and a sniffling nose while I buttoned everything, tied his shoes, and clipped his tie in place. When I was finished he looked fabulous. Unbearably adorable (again, I don't have photos of this!). And although his face was red and tear-stained, J gazed into the mirror and proudly proclaimed that he looked just like Daddy. It was so sweet. He was much more awake now, cheering up, and really feeling his sartorial moment.
We were running late, so I had to scramble to finish getting ready. Even with my mom here to help (she was in town for the week preceding the Gala) it was crazy. As I stuffed the diaper bag with the last few odds and ends, suddenly J appeared at my side. His face was contorted into a huge frown, and tears were again streaming down his face.
"What happened!?!?" I asked, probably a little frantically.
"I'm ALL ITCHY!" J boo-hooed, bursting into a full-out sob.
"Do you want to wear a different shirt?" I asked.
"YEAH" he wept emphatically.
And that is the story of how my son ended up wearing jeans and a t-shirt to the Gala.
He still looked amazing. And he was happy as a clam.