Tuesday, June 23, 2009
I have been waiting for as long as I can remember for the day that I would put a tutu on my little girl and take her to a dance class. Honestly, I've been waiting forever.
So when I got a phone call last Monday letting me know that Ana had been moved from the waiting list for a ballet class to being in the class I was in Heeeaaaavennnnnn! I ran out for a leotard and the stinkin' cutest size 6 ballet slippers I'd ever seen.
I made my way home with outfit in tow and daydreamt of my little Ana and the pirouettes she was sure to master on her very first day. The moment she saw them she immediately put them on. And wore them the rest of the night. And slept in them. I loved it.
In the morning I was met by a very eager 3 year old with slippers in hand asking if it was time for her ballet class yet. AWE-SOME! But wait. Too good to be true, right? Yeah, totally what I thought. So I managed to brace myself for her to completely loathe ballet and never want to put a tutu on again.
Uh, WRONG! She LOVED IT!!!! She was smitten immediately and jumped right in and listened to the teacher's instructions and didn't look for me once and made friends and spoke up and made me cry. Yes, sir. I was the mom I always knew I would be. Cried through the entire 30 minutes. It's not like I was a blubbering mess or anything. I managed to hold it together enough to not get myself kicked out but still, these eyes were-a-cryin'. I cried cuz she seemed so grown up. I cried because she was so independent. And I cried because I saw how happy it made her.
I'm totally aware that this could be short lived, much like her soccer career, but whether it lasts for 2 weeks or 30 years I will cherish every second of it.
I've been waiting for this.