This is the face of someone seeing Disney on Ice from a front-row seat. All those Snow Whites, Tinkerbells, Peter Pans, Wendy, Alices, and Mickeys whirling, twirling, and dancing in death-defying leaps around the ice. It’s enough to blow a four-year-old introvert’s mind back into a safe dark cave from whence it will peek from time to time with a flash of a smile or dart of the eyes to see if the spectacle is still underway.
The extraordinary event of a first Disney on Ice will be a cherished memory for Little Friend and for her mama who was most entranced watching Little Friend’s face through the proceedings.
It was a fabulous evening of clapping, sighing, screaming, and smiling. I saw Little Friend glitter with real-life fairy dust. After the Disney extravaganza, I slipped her back into ordinary life, tucking her into her Tangled sheets, brushing her teeth with her Cinderella toothbrush, promising to pretend Wendy and Peter in the morning.
The day after Disney on Ice was ordinary. In between diaper changes and putting away laundry and shoving bathroom products back into drawers, we had visits from Simba and Alice and Aladdin and Snow White and Wendy, all of whom put on ice skates with a “click-click” and maneuvered loops around the bedroom carpets.
Between me and the Disney on Ice program that cost half a kidney (we’re suckers, us parents at Disney on Ice, dragging our daughters dressed as Princesses past the stalls of Disney paraphernalia), I’m sure we’ll remember that spectacular, out-of-the-ordinary evening.
But the ordinary days made up of ordinary moments are so deliciously comfortable, if we stop to take note. At the time, those laundry piles and cluttered bathrooms seem like an annoying interlude between acts of greatness. Yet the interlude is essential to build excitement for the coming act. Let’s not rush through the ordinary interludes. Let’s take note and appreciate for what it is: I’ve got front row seats to Simba on Ice and to Little Friend/Baby Simba whirling around the nursery ice rink. I’m ever so grateful for the ordinary making the extraordinary possible.
Disney-Not-On-Ice is worth cherishing too.
I’m joining in with Lisa Jo Baker on Five Minute Friday. Today’s prompt is “Ordinary.”
Such a timely reminder! The little ordinary moments don’t matter less–they just matter differently. And there are so many more of them, and they are often so much harder to be excited about than the big moments…but just because they’re ordinary doesn’t mean they are less.
What a beautiful story! I love the line – “But the ordinary days made up of ordinary moments are so deliciously comfortable, if we stop to take note” – Yes! We HAVE to stop and take it all in, especially when they are little! Blessings to you!
Oh so wise–the ordinary does truly make the extraordinary pssible–one defines itself against the other, neither is possible without the other.
Hi Beth! What a sweet site you have here. For some reason, you and your site remind me a bit of me. Do you participate in FMF often? I’m glad I bumped into you through Lisa-Jo…I’ll keep my eye out for your posts in the future! Anyway…what a great little post about your sweet ice adventures with your little one. What a precious time you had together, and I can just imagine what a joy it was to watch her in wonder.
Thanks for visiting me through FMF – thought I’d return the favour :o) Glad I did – how lovely that you captured that moment of awe and delight as she watched Disney on Ice. Days are never ordinary with small children around.