Pippi has chosen dance as her "extracurricular" 2 years, but not in a row.
I personally love dance. Though I wasn't a great dancer when I was a kid, I was a frequent dancer. I'd send my younger siblings out of our finished basement and put on my prettiest skirt and dance for hours, privately.
None of my children have danced like this, though they obviously love music.
Pippi anticipated this dance year with much enthusiasm. She was SO excited about the dance shoes, the leotards, the skirts, and her beloved teacher. But Pippi soon discovered that dance was work. She had to use her brain and her body at the same time to do tasks that didn't come automatically. Then she saw friends at the playground on every Tuesday afternoon, but she had to rush home to get ready for dance. And then Pippi outgrew her ballet slippers. The first pair I purchased her were pricey, and comfy (split-sole). When I borrowed a single sole replacement, she was not pleased. Suddenly she had a foot injury (stubbed toe?) and then a minor spat with her teacher when she wanted to dance without shoes at all. She came home one day and dramatically refused to go to dance ever again. We had to work some things out, but Pippi chose not to quit dance but to stick with it. Still she just wasn't enthusiastic about her dance class every week. This was the year I had to "support" Pippi in keeping commitments. During this year I vowed never to allow dance again. But then came the year end revue.
Pippi and I walked in to the school cafeteria, all set up and ready to go for the performance. My friend, breezed by, saw I was there and said, "Be sure to save your seats now. This is your first year, right?" She then stopped what she was doing, took tags off her own chair, crossed off her name, put down my name, and then drew some arrows. I never would have known to do this. Pippi and I walk around, getting ready to do hair. All the performers and their moms are familiar, many dear friends. J helps me with Pippi's makeup. I chat with a book club friend while I do Pippi's hair, and then I snap pictures of rehearsals because I know I'll have toddlers crawling over me during the performance.
And I see how graceful and beautiful she is in her own way. She does "march to the beat of her own drummer," but I think, if she wanted, she could be a great dancer. But I just want her to love what she does.
Here is N's spunky girl, on the right. Bardo had a "crush" on the girl top left when he liked girls last year.
Pippi knows these three quite well. I teach the middle child in my Sunday School class. She performed a solo in memory of her sister, who died of a brain tumor last year. I cried.
Anyway, we loved the recital. Even the Warlock commented that it couldn't have been any better.
So will this girl be a dancer? Maybe. But I'm betting on a geologist based on the weight of the rock collections pulled from her hoodie pockets on laundry day.
And this next picture is entitled: Oh the Sweet Smell of Being Done