MAIDS
Mothers Addicted to Irish Dancing
Ten MAIDS (Mothers Addicted to Irish Dancing) are
traveling with their daughters' U-13 8-Hand Céilí Team
to the World Irish Dance Championships, following a
four week intensive practice period which almost
destroys their dance school. Bringing with them
enough emotional baggage to fill up the Grand Canyon,
they are forced to confront 'serious' obstacles coming
at them from every direction. How they survive and
apply their mothering 'skills' amidst the epic chaos
nipping at their heels, is the stuff MAIDS are made of.
MICHELLE
MELISSA
SYLVIA
STACEY
   SARAH
    BRANDI
DANA
JESSICA
    LINDA
VALERIE
THE LETTER-WRITER
Dana tried not to show how concerned she was that her
daughter, Kaitlin, was noticeably shorter than the  other
girls on her U-13 8-Hand Céilí Team which had, for the
first time, qualified for the World Irish Dance
Championships.
After Jessica had verified that her daughter
was not conscious, the dispatcher inquired, as
calmly as if she were asking for the time of
day, “Can you tell if she is breathing?”
What if Catelyn were not breathing? Would
she be expected to perform CPR with all that
blood?
When the trusted family doctor told Michelle
and her DD, Katelyn, that he would not inject
Katelyn’s right knee with another cortisone
shot to ease the pain she endured when she
danced, Michelle lost her external calm
demeanor.
Sometimes, Linda thought that she might be
over-scheduling her DD, but as she knew well from
her own experience, if one was going to excel at
everything like she had at Vassar and then at
Dartmouth, you had to become disciplined about
managing your time.  
Brandi had never outgrown girl fights.
Her modus operandi was to harass
only those Voyers who had taken their
‘final vows’ on the forums—the ones
who had promised to faithfully cause
trouble by scalding  others’ egos and
wounding fragile feelings.    
Sylvia wondered how many of the
MAIDS would resort to cortisone shots
and two cans of Red Bull and snorting
Pixie Stix powder and whatever else it
might take to get their DD’s body up on
stage to prevent a Sub from butting in.
Annoying wind noise created by the
landing gear being lowered jolted her
back to being fully conscious. Which
Mexican resort had she booked? Was
it Playa del Carmen, Cancun?
Resorts were basically all the same, no
matter what country they happened to
be in.  
Stacey firmly believed that vomiting
should be the absolute last recourse to
weight loss. Resorted to only when,
like minutes ago, chocolate candy bar
wrappers had been discovered, along
with some empty potato chip bags,
hidden in the bottom of Caitlyn’s
backpack.
Sarah, like her daughter, Caitlin, had
started to think that Irish dancing was
not so much fun anymore. It seemed
that lately one, or both of them, was
stressing out about something directly
related to it.
Why had she ever thought, sober or otherwise,
that her daughter, Keightlinne, needed three new
solo dresses for the upcoming World
Championships?
The timid author of the notorious letter
had merely pointed out, that she
thought her DD was not getting  any
one-on-one attention like the other
dancers in her class were.
Her little DD, Kaitlinn, complained
regularly that she did not know how to
do the jig.

    KINDLE


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