It was an impulse check-out of our library's copy of The Nutcracker Suite late November that started things off. Though Buzzy doesn't watch much TV, the ballet was one of my childhood favorites, and I added the DVD to our stack of books. After watching for 15 minutes, Buzzy was obsessed. She watched as often as we let her and cast the family in her living-room productions--insisting on choreography and stage blocking as true to the original as she could manage. She preferred to dance all the roles, simultaneously, but called on Greg and nine-months pregnant me to fill in for some of the corps.
After three weeks, we pried her fingers off the library's DVD and bought our own copy. Greg had a business trip to Germany before Christmas, and came home with a genuine nutcracker doll. Unfortunately, Buzzy was dancing the part of naughty Fritz that day, and promptly threw it onto the ground. (Since then, the nutcracker doll has gone through too many superglue surgeries to count.)
Tchaikovsky's music accompanied us everywhere. Baby Rosie kicked along to Act I in utero, and calmed to it after her birth. On Easter Sunday, The Waltz of the Sugarplum Fairy blasted from our car stereo as we raced to church. I realized something had to be done to preserve my sanity.
"You know, honey, The Nutcracker Suite is sort of a special Christmas-time show," I tried. "Let's put it away until Christmas comes again." Buzzy was incredulous. She insisted it was a dance for all seasons. I had to get crafty, or pull rank. I did both.
To be continued....