I am not a dancer. You know how they say “dance like nobody is watching”? I can’t do that. I am convinced there is always someone watching, analyzing, critiquing my every move. Not only when I dance. I know I’m not that important. No one is watching what I’m doing. I just feel like someone always is. I can’t explain it. I just don’t like it.
My daughter is a Dancer. Yes, with a capital D. This year was her fifth recital (like the photo says!). She took six hours a week this past year, and I think we’re looking into at least seven when she starts again in the fall. I’m just this side of in hock to the studio. Ok, it isn’t that bad. Yet. On the bright side, she understands there are things we don’t do, things she doesn’t get to have, because she wants dance to come first.
To be fair, the boys have some activities like that as well. But this post is about dance, and not about those activities.
I love to watch her move. I love that I can see the joy radiating off of her when she’s in the moment. I love that she found something to be so passionate about. I think everyone should have something like that. And if she gets older, and dance turns out to not be her passion, but she finds something else, we’ll go down that route. But right now, dance is where it’s at. I love that she wants to share it with me. She shows me “the moves” and I butcher them as I try to follow along. But it’s fun. It’s building memories.
I have a box of dance shoes. Tap shoes I tend to pass along – those are pricey and we’ve had them passed to us. I mean, we still have some, but the larger ones tend to disappear when the next season starts. But I have a box of ballet shoes ranging from (I swear) the size of my thumb up through whatever her next-to-most current (and still tiny) size is. It’s full of jazz shoes too. So tiny pink and tan shoes that were loved so intensely and the only reason they aren’t in threads is because her feet outgrew them before they had a chance to disintegrate while being worn. I have a closet full of costumes. Every year they get tucked back into their garment bags, along with a program from the same year, and all of their accessories. They’re like tiny bridesmaid dresses, just collecting in the back of the closet because you can’t bear to part with them but they really are useless. I was toying with the idea of making something with a piece of each of them today (and throw out the extra!), but a blanket would be too scratchy and really, what else do you make with scraps?
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