Gracie is a dancer. She was dancing before she was walking. If she hears a good beat she has to dance to it. It could be the new neon tree's song. It might be the sound of her maracas. Heck, it could be a car commercial, but never the less she has to dance. She just can't help it. Now, anyone that knows me knows that while I love music, I am not a dancer. I feel the beat but I have no idea what to do with it. My only two fears about having a daughter were that I wouldn't be good at doing hair and I would make hers look awful (which so far hasn't happened) and that she would want dance lessons. I should have known that based on those fears I would absolutely end up with a girl with a fantastic head of hair and a love for the dance. At 18 months she was using the handle on the stove for a ballet bar. She has been BEGGING me for lessons for an entire year. "Mommy, I neeeeeeeeeed dancing shoes and a tutu and to learn how to ballet". I said "How about when you're five?" She sighed and said "No, mom, can't wait til five." I try avoiding the subject at any cost but she keeps bringing it up.
My ballet career lasted one year and if you ask me, that was one year too long. I signed up for ballet when I was six. I only signed up because my sister Amy was taking it. Amy was and is a dancer. She was was filled with excitement as we walked to the center of our town with our mom for the first lesson. I really had no idea what was happening except that I was in a black leotard which was itchy and riding up on me and I had these dumb pink shoes. The teacher was tall and thin and she had a flowy pink tutu over her leotard. Amy thought she looked beautiful. I knew right then I was in the wrong place. But hey, I just had to make it through the class and then it was over and I never had to come back. Well, that's what I thought. After class we were taught how to say goodbye to the teacher in a sing song voice. We all said in unison "Goodbye Miss Rosemarie! We'll see you next week!" I remember thinking how dumb that was and how glad I was I wasn't coming back next week. Then on the way home my mom was talking about the next lesson and I said I wasn't going back. She stopped in the middle of the street and said, Oh yes you are. I said dancing is dumb and I'm not going back. She said I just bought you a leotard, ballet slippers and tap shoes and paid for the lessons. You're going back. It was a long, long, long year. I hated every second of it. Amy loved every second of it which made me even madder. I could not comprehend how someone could actually enjoy this nonsense. Then all of a sudden late in May my mother comes home with these two ridiculous poofy dresses. Turns out, there was a recital that no one told me about. Yes, I knew we were learning this silly little dance but no one told me we would have to perform it in front of actual people. In this ridiculous dress. With a hula hoop cut in half with plastic flowers hot glued to it (and no, I did not make up that part). It was awful. I did that stupid dance and then I swore I would never have anything to do with dance classes again. I was sure that if I ever had a daughter she would also hate dancing and would never want lessons. And then I got Grace. And all she wanted to do was dance. And my mother is surely up in heaven laughing like crazy and doing a jig because now I was going to have to suffer through what I dreaded most. I tried to fight it. I really did but the princess of the dance is just too over powering.
So I caved and looked for a dance studio and found one that was affordable, close by and had classes on Saturdays. Tonight we went to officially sign up and she was delighted. We walked in and she saw a rack with leotards and said "Mom, this my dancing place?". They gave us a tour and showed us the studio her class would be in and as soon as they turned on the light she walked in and gasped, "OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH. I gonna have my dancing in here!!!!" She was giddy. We walked out with a packet of information, a list of stuff she needs and a little girl that was beside herself with happiness. I don't know how she will make it to Saturday when we'll have the time to go get her ballet and tap shoes. On the way home I told her there would be a recital at the end of the year and she would get to dance in it and we would all come see her. She said "Mommy, will I have a beautiful dancing dress?" Oh yes, you will. And if you're lucky maybe even a cut in half hula hoop with fake flowers glued to it.
