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Prince-mess

Dichotomy: n. separation of different or contradictory things; a separation into two divisions that differ widely from or contradict each other

In other words,

This:

and

this:


Last weekend provided some great family bonding time – not only the five of us together, but dad & daughter, mom & daughter, mom & sons, dad & sons, mom & dad. We all need that.

Friday night, Michael took the boys to a Texas Rangers game (who knew they were doing so well?) with some of the great people from his office. They ate hot dogs, nachos, ice cream, and had a blast together. Nathan was a little freaked by the fireworks after every home run (“they wuh willy loud!”), but eventually learned to tolerate them.

While they were off on their trans fat-infested social bonding time, Meghan and I dressed up and hit the town. After eating dinner together at Cheddar’s (her favorite restaurant), we drove over to Dallas to the Meyerson and saw the Dallas Symphony Orchestra perform with The 5 Browns.

Oh my!

This is a family of five siblings (two brothers and three sisters), ages 25-30, who all started playing the piano at age 3, all went to Julliard, and now they record classical music CDs and tour the world together. For the first half of the performance, they had three pianos (two grands and one baby grand) on the stage with the DSO. During intermission, all the chairs were moved off the stage to make room for two more baby grands, and the five of them played together.

It was amazing.

Meghan and I had upper level box seats, so we were sitting to the side of the stage looking down, and we had a bird’s eye view of the piano keys and the 50 fingers dancing all over them. At one point (my favorite moment of the evening), Meghan leaned over to me and whispered, “I don’t have any words!” She was stunned and overwhelmed and completely enraptured.

What I really loved was their approachability. One of the five of them often took a mike before the next piece began and introduced the music in a relaxed, accessible manner – often evoking references to modern-day movies or some commonly-known event, or talking about a poem or play that inspired the composer, explaining it in modern vocabulary and phrases. After the intermission, the five siblings sat in chairs downstage and took questions from the audience – most often young, lisping, budding musicians who wanted to know how much they have to practice or if they ever mess up. After the concert, the Browns sat at a table in the lobby to meet fans (including us!) and sign autographs. They made music – classical music – cool and accessible and interesting.

Thanks to a huge wreck on the freeway, Meghan and I didn’t get home until midnight. We had such a fabulous evening together – and we were wiped out. We hung up our pretty dresses, took off our high heels, and laid our princess heads down on our soft princess pillows.

The next morning, Cinderella awoke and wondered to where Fairy Godmother took off.

Griffin was supposed to play in a soccer tournament on Saturday, but all the games were cancelled because of the soaking rain, so Michael suggested insisted that I take the boys up to the church for the Mother-Son Field Day that I had been so adamantly avoiding and thought I had escaped until the soccer games were cancelled. I huffed and puffed and slammed the car door, and the three of us drove off and left Michael to explore the mysterious terrain of tulle and hairspray and lip gloss as he escorted Meghan to have her dance recital pictures taken.

It was still raining.

And the Field Day games? Outside.

Does a little rain stop outdoor Field Day games? Oh, no.

Because we’re going to get wet anyway. Very, very wet.

And very, very messy.

And we’re going to have a blast.


And these boys? They’re going to love their momma even more. Because not only can Momma put on a pretty dress and look “boo-tiful,” she can get down and dirty with the best of ‘em. She can take chocolate syrup in her hair and whipped cream in her eyes. She can throw a dripping wet koosh ball and raw eggs. She can splash in the puddles. She can withstand a four year old with bad aim pouring water into the bottle which rests on top of her head.

And then, she will take off that little boy’s dripping wet t-shirt, wrap him up in a towel, hold him in her lap, and kiss his sweet cheek and tell him how much fun she had and how glad she is to be his momma.

It’s a classic dichotomy. Dress up, dress down. Classical music, water relays. Fancy symphony center, big wet mess.

But one part of this definition bothers me. It says a dichotomy is a “separation into two divisions that…contradict each other.”

Cinderella and Messy Momma don’t contradict each other. They celebrate each other. They complete each other. They make each other whole.

And despite all my quirks and insecurities, I love that about myself.

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3 thoughts on “Prince-mess

  1. This is my favorite post of yours so far, I think. Love the “dichotomy” and realness. In our women’s group last night we discussed the phrase “Be You” and all that that entails. You are enjoying being you and it is awesome!

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