Dancing

Today Gracie woke up and the first thing she said was "Mom, today I go to my dancing class?"  She has been asking me that question for weeks and today I finally gave her the answer she was longing to hear.  Today was the day.  She was up at seven and we had breakfast and then every 5 minutes she asked me if it was time to go.  Class wasn't until 10:00. She kept asking me when I was doing her hair, which she NEVER wants me to do.  I gave in at 8:00.  "Mom, I really need my hair in a dancing bun please." How could I refuse? So a dancing bun it was.  We were done in record time. I didn't want to dress her in her leotard yet because I wanted it to still be clean by the time we got there.  By 8:45 she was losing her mind, pleading, crying, begging me to just "take me to my dancing place.  They be open and I can go in".  I told her if we leave now we'll have to sit in the parking lot for a long time.  She contemplated but eventually decided that she wasn't crazy about that option.  She pulled it together and by 9:10 we started to get ready.  She oooohhhh'd over her brand new pink tights she never got to wear before.  She counted the little rhinestones on her leotard.  She begrudgingly allowed me to put a skirt over it and her sandals on.  When it was time to leave she proudly picked up her dance bag and we raced out to the car.  She told me how she was going to listen to her teacher and how she was going to do everything she was told.

We pulled into the parking lot at the dance studio and she squealed with delight.  She walked right in the door with her back straight, her head held high and her purple dance bag on her shoulder.  We were welcomed and told to change her into her white tap shoes.  The second the shoes were on she started twirling in the lobby.  Everyone was smiling at her.  Happiness just oozed out of her.  When it was time the teacher of her section called each girls name and asked them to bring their dance bag and stand in line.  She looked back at me, flashed a huge smile, waved at me and marched right into the dance studio.  Parents aren't allowed in the actual room but are encouraged to stay in the waiting room, at least for the first couple of sessions just in case the child gets scared.  I really didn't know what to do with myself.  I mean, 45 minutes of just sitting there is rare for me.  I had a book with me but I was a little antsy.  About half way through I heard another parent say that while the blinds were down on the studio window and door, you could peak through the door a bit and see what they were doing.  I got up and looked and there was Gracie with her eyes dead set on the teacher, her hands on her hips and her right toe extended and tapping away, just like the teacher was doing.  She looked determined and serious but you could tell she loved every second of it.  When the class ended all the girls spilled out into the small waiting room filled with the girls waiting for the next class.  Before I could even see her I heard her little voice say, "Mom, that was sooooooo fun!!!!!!!" Everyone in the waiting room laughed.  We changed her out of her ballet shoes and back into her sandals.  As she practically floated out of the door she asked for a chocolate milk because "I really worked hard mom. I was a great listener."  We went for a celebratory chocolate milk and she told me all about the class.  How the teacher had them sit criss cross apple sauce.  How she put on dancing music and how they all got a sticker. When she spilled a little milk on her leotard she looked up at me horrified and said "Oh no, Mom, Can we wash my leotard?  I need it clean for next time."  I assured her we would and it would be perfectly fine.  She has continued to talk about it all day and when I put her to bed tonight she said "Mom, I really happy I get to have dancing lessons.  It makes me soooo happy."

All dressed and ready to go

practicing her moves

her special ballerina move

finally ready to go !!!!!

warming up at the dance studio

First Day of Pre-School

I can't believe that the time has come for her to start preschool.  How is it possible that my baby is ready for school? Boy, time really has flown by.  We started the day with sausage and chocolate chip pancakes with the cousins.  Then we got her dressed in her first day of school outfit.  She was a little nervous but incredibly excited and thrilled to finally be using the new Minnie mouse back pack.  I was nervous about drop-off.  This summer she did a little preschool camp for a week and she was fine every day my sister dropped her off but freaked out the day I took her. Her feeling is that if I am not going to work, then she wants to be with me.  I solved that issue today by telling a little fib.  I told her mommy was going to work as soon as I dropped her off and that Auntie would pick her up (which is how it will usually work).  I even dressed for work but I really took the day off and Auntie and I will go pick her up in a little bit and take her to lunch.  I think my plan worked because she did great! She was a little nervous when it was time but she gave me a hug and a kiss and she went right in with the teachers and there was no crying (from either of us).  So proud of her and so excited to hear how her day went.  Here are a couple of pictures.  

My Little Artist

I left the room for two seconds to grab the camera and I came back to her painting the table with water

The Master pieces

Gracie took this picture of her painting. I think she has a future in contemporary art

Happiness is a new pair of tap shoes

Today we went to get everything she needs to start dance classes in a few weeks.  She was so excited when we walked into the dance store.  She said "OOOHHHH Mom! This so exciting!" She sat very still while waiting for them to bring out the ballet shoes to try on and squealed with delight to realize they were pink.  Then she put on the tap shoes and got down on the floor and the look on her face when she realized they made noise was priceless.  While she was putting her sneakers back on she happened to look up and saw a dance costume that was hanging up.  She said "OH MOM! Look at that beautiful dress! I LOVE IT!!!!!" One of the sales staff came over and asked if we needed any more help and Grace said "Oh yes, we need some tights please. You show us where the tights are?" She was cracking everyone up.  We also bought a purple dance bag and she was so happy about that she did a dance while waiting to pay for it. She was panicked when we left the store because we didn't buy a leotard.  "Mom, I no have a leotard. I have to have a leotard!" I assured her we were on our way to get one. The store had really cute ones but I knew I could get one for a lot less at Target that she would love just as much.  When we got home she had to try the whole ensemble on and she was thrilled.  I don't know how she's ever going to wait for two more weeks.

My Little Dancer

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.

Three Years Ago

When I woke up on Friday, August 7, 2009 I was a single woman, working professional, sister, friend, aunt, daughter, co-worker, book worm, music lover. The one thing I wasn't was the title I had longed for most for as long as I could remember.  I was not a mother.  I was 14 months into what was supposed to be an 8-12 month wait for a child.  I usually woke up anxious every morning but that morning I wasn't.  I certainly didn't suspect that my entire world was about to change but for one welcome morning, the anxiety had subsided.  I walked into work as me and I walked out 8 hours later with a colored printer picture of this gorgeous face and the realization that I was a mother.

I had three thoughts when I finally saw her face for the first time.  

1. She's gorgeous

2. My poor baby looks absolutely terrified

3. She has pony tails.  She's four months and she has enough hair for pony tails? I'm in trouble

This was the picture that made me realize that there was such a thing as love at first site.  I know that everyone has different emotions when they see their child for the first time but there was nothing mixed about what I felt.  The second I saw her I was her mother.  There was not a question in my mind that this was my child and that I loved her with everything I had.  Call me sappy, call me sentimental, naive, crazy, but that's what I felt.  I also felt a tremendous responsibility to her birth family.  There isn't a day that goes by that they are not in my thoughts.  I can't really remember my life before her and they have to live theirs without her.  I think about that in every decision I make for her.  I owe it to them that I get to raise this incredible girl and I don't take that for granted. Since I never know if they get all the updates I send, I send a little prayer out every so often to them that she's safe and loved and healthy and that we love them and pray for them. I hope they get those too.  

I will never know why I was lucky enough to become the mother of this little girl but every night I thank my lucky stars. On this night, I thank them a little bit more.  

Showing Some Pride

Getting ready to support our two countries in the Olympics.