Mark’s never been much of a dancer. He attributes it to a “lack of rhythm,” that thing that allows most people to clap and sing at the same time. And in spite of his enormous affinity for the arts in general, well, dancing would gracefully chassé to the bottom of that list every time. He did once, when we were in London, accompany me to see Les Miserable, after I swore he would love it (and because he loves me). And he did, but more for the story than all the dancing and singing, really. While my own dancing mostly resorts to the I-totally-look-like-a-fool-but-I-don’t-care style that occurs at weddings and parties at friends’ houses, I love to watch people who know how to dance –you know, the kind of dancing that convinces you that with right amount of pixie dust you might also stay on your toes that long while twirling in circles or contort your body with as much rhythm and speed as Beyoncé. Fortunately, I have 4 children who love to dance, and as you’ll notice below, they don’t even need a party, just some hats at a resale store to use for props.

So what else could be a perfect way to segue into the second part of our holiday with my family than taking Blythe to her first Nutcracker ballet at the Bass Hall? Kristen, Blythe, and I loaded into the car, while Mark and Tim loaded the other with the rest of the crew, and we headed to Fort Worth to meet my mom, Pam, the sisters (sadly, minus Kayla), and two nieces for a magical afternoon of dancing flowers and snowflakes, the Sugar Plum Fairy, and of course, the Nutcracker himself.  They even had “snow” falling on the crowd this year during the Snow Queen’s dance! Again, I have pictures thanks to Kristen! Starting with Blythe sipping her hot cocoa on the way there and sleeping on the way home. Nice. We had such a restful and enjoyable time over our holiday season, regardless of what can only appropriately be called a rumpus.