It first happened to me about 5 months ago. I was out in public. My two-year-old son was pitching a fit in the stroller, catching the attention of every passer-by. I could almost telepathically hear the judgmental nannies and mothers of only daughters shaking their heads and thinking "Why can't she control her child?" With 10 blocks to go until home, I was at the end of my rope. My mortification mounting, I reached for my last resource. My only remaining idea for how to calm my screaming son: I handed him THE iPHONE.
And thus began my family's courtship with all things digital. My son, now two and a half, can purchase apps on his own (I have to put in my password but he finds the apps, hands me the phone and says "Mama, buy dis peaze!") and my seven year old's new best friend is her iPod Touch that Grandma gave her as a birthday present. I myself am of course glued to my computer screen either writing, emailing or just killing time, and my husband's blackberry has (I'm pretty certain), permanently fused itself into the palm of his hand.
So imagine my delight when my daughter and I found ourselves sitting in the audience of "Angelina Ballerina" at the Union Square Theatre this past weekend, being urged by a troupe of adorable dancing mice to "Get Up and Move!"
Based on the series of children's books created by Katharine Holabird, illustrated by Helen Craig and inspired by the PBS Kids television series by the same name, "Angelina Ballerina" is an adorable, child-centered show that features different styles of dance, a simple yet engaging story and a nice message about "Finding your own dance" or, as I take it to mean, celebrating what makes you unique and being your own person.
The show is geared towards younger kids but has the potential to win over an older child. During the opening number, a "Good Morning Baltimore" moment when Angelina wakes up and embraces the day by celebrating her excitement about going to school, my seven year old rolled her eyes and said, "OMG Mommy she's the total opposite of me." But by the end of the play, having seen the mice play, sing and dance literally every style of dance imaginable, even my oh-so-mature first born had a smile on her face and clapping hands.
I'm hoping that as our weekend winds down, my family might take the morals of Angelina's story home. Maybe tonight we can shut down the video games, turn on some music and actually get up and dance. That is, if my daughter isn't too embarrassed.
Get to the point, Mom!
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