Dancing Queen

We are prepping for my daughter’s dance class again this week. She loves getting dressed in her dance clothes, wearing her tap shoes, and doing “sunshine arms”. But for a while, she wasn’t sure about dance class. Although she’s a total show off, she also has a shy side to her. This resulted in mama doing all the dancing.

Last week was great. Admittedly, I had to sit on the floor with her at the beginning of class and do the stretches for her. I had two concerns. One was that I’d worn the wrong jeans and my top wasn’t long enough to cover my tatoo, or my butt crack for that matter, and I had major plumber issues. With all the stage moms behind me watching class I was pretty self conscious. The second was that I wasn’t sure she’d ever warm up to class, and frankly, we were wasting money we just didn’t have.

We got up to do high kicks across the room. Morgan was on my hip as I anticipated how I’d make it through another embarrassing exercise of stepping with one leg and kicking with the other. Then the moment came – the one I was waiting for…”Mama, I want to do it myself”. You go girl!

I put her down in line. She did her best to high kick, sachet, and sunshine arm with the rest of the kids. She even did pickle arms. I watched from behind the curtain, hoping she would continue. And she did. I refused to be one of the stage moms correcting her every move. After all, she is my daughter, and there is little hope she’ll become a principal dancer someday with my coordination. But I was hoping she’d get the same experience I did out of dance – fun, exercise, and a little bit of confidence.

She had a great class. You could see she was proud of herself. Not as proud as I was. Here’s hoping to another successful week and no plumber butt!

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