Saturday, January 10, 2009

Gotta Dance

Today was my daughter’s first ballet lesson. She’s been aching to dance since I took her to see the Nutcracker and told her I’d signed her up. Every morning, she would ask, “Is today my dance lesson?” and we’d check the calendar. This morning, she got up, got dressed and fixed herself breakfast to be sure she wouldn’t be late. She asked me all the way there if we were late and even after we had arrived and were waiting for her class to start, she worried we’d missed it.

Stepping into the room walled with mirrors and meeting two Ms. Sarahs, she nearly swooned. Putting on her tap shoes –it is a ballet/tap class intro course, she almost exploded with joy when the teacher announced there would be a recital with costumes at the end of the semester. I took her younger sister and baby brother back to the waiting room after watching a few shuffle steps.

On the first floor of the dance studio, a “First Steps” class was beginning.

Parents were coming in with two, three and four year olds and in some cases, practically crowbaring the children off their legs. One daughter pouted at her father and refused to go into the room. It was probably a bad call on the instructor’s part to have them dancing to “Maybe” from Annie.

My daughter however, was enchanted. The director told her she could watch. After five minutes, my three year old, who isn’t really the “watching” type, immersed herself in the class. The instructor didn’t mind but I saw an opportunity. “This is a one time deal.” I explained. “Why?” she asked.

“Because ballerinas don’t wear diapers.” This may seem cruel but all’s fair in love and potty wars. My daughter nodded her head and returned to the class. There, she danced and flipped and followed directions. She outshone all the other students with her sheer joy and willingness to do whatever the instructor said.

The director saw an opportunity too. When the class was over, she handed my daughter a white leotard in a plastic bag. “You can have this. Wear it when you’re potty trained." Her teacher smiled and said "We’ll see you in class.”

The director and instructor had just earned my undying love and loyalty with their backing me up.

My daughter reverently took the bag and held it tight to her heart. She explained to me that she was going to be in this class this coming Saturday because she would be a big girl and wear underwear.

She went home and that’s just what she did.

I don’t know about my three year old but personally, I “GOTTA DANCE.”

2 comments:

Amy said...

Awesome! For my daughter it was a new play place she wanted to go to. Find what fuels 'em! How's the baby doing?

hilda said...

I"m thinking the three year old must take after her mother____"I'll do what I want to do only WHEN I want to do it." It kind of sounds like a little girl growing up three beach houses east of me.

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