I have never been to a ball before, but I have watched Cinderella a million times, so I am going to the pet store for some nice mice and birds who could help a girl out. It seems like the easiest way to deal with what is otherwise a kind of overwhelming process.
Here are some reasons why I might need some help:
-I shaved the back of my head a few months ago. This grow-out period is a bitch.
-95% of my makeup is on the floor of my linen closet, and came free with purchase of a moisturizer.
-I have one "formal" dress - which is more than most people, I know, but leaves a lot to be desired in terms of choosing a dress. I own a dress. I am wearing it.
-I am wearing the aforementioned dress with a pair of sandals I just found in a bag under my bed. This post is really helping to keep me on track.
-I have a 6 week old. If you have kids that you have raised since birth, you may understand what I am saying when I tell you I am barely coherent some days, rarely showered, and usually in sweatpants. I haven't brushed my hair since February.
I could go on, but you get the picture. I am the last person on the planet that should be going to a ball, and it will take every ounce of strength I have to stay awake past 9pm. Since the after party starts at 10, I will begin drinking caffeine-laden beverages at noon.
There is a really good reason for all of this:
The ball benefits Imua Family Services.
Imua has been a part of our lives for years - they have worked with several of our foster children and the results of their comprehensive approach to therapy - mostly through play and exploration - is a wonder to behold. Dude, in particular, benefitted from their services and for that I am forever grateful. When we brought Dude home from the hospital he had a lot of odds stacked against him, from low birth weight to drug exposure in utero. He made incredible progress working with Imua, and Imua worked long and hard on his behalf, partnering with his mother and father to be sure he was making the progress he needed to make before entering preschool.
this is Dude in an infant carseat, which was clearly too big for a Dude-sized infant
But Imua provides more than just services for our foster children - they provide peace of mind. So many people ask me how I can bear to give these foster children back, and the honest truth is that it would be impossible if I didn't know that the team - the doctors and nurses and therapists and social workers and lawyers that I have gotten to know and trust over the years from case to case - would be following the baby for months or even years to come. Because I know that they will be getting to know the family, and supporting them through the child's early years, sometimes even doing the visits in the family home, I am able to have some peace of mind when I hand these babies over for the last time and say goodbye.
They do good work at Imua Family Services, and I was proud to be asked to support their fundraiser this year. But then I realized it would mean actually pulling myself together for a fancy evening event.
This will be interesting.
To hold myself accountable, and also to make sure I get some feedback, I will be undergoing my makeover in public. Right here. Hair will be dyed, skin will be waxed, wrinkles will be blasted, dresses will be tried on to see if I can find one I like better then the one I have, and then of course, the grand finale:
I might even wear a corsage.
Good lord, it's like 1993 Senior Prom all over again. But this time I won't be driving a turquoise Cadillac with a white leather interior (sadly, because that car was amazing) and I'm pretty sure I won't have a perm, either.
I'm not ruling it out, though. The thrill of the reveal, coming soon!