i don't feel like dancing

A few things I am good at: math, making mix cds, cooking, napping and losing my keys.
A few things I am not good at: dancing, french braiding, matching outfits (heck, I don’t even match my socks) and applying makeup. And yes. I subscribed to YM, Seventeen and Teen Magazine growing up. And I read them cover to cover. But I still couldn’t tell you how to apply eyeliner. My husband will tell you that I’m all girl. Meaning I cry at cheesy movies, occasionally stress over what to wear, take things he says the wrong way, can quote Top Gun and Dirty Dancing (and owned the soundtracks), and most days I’d much rather get a pedicure than watch ESPN. But I don’t like frilly dresses or big hair or lots of makeup. Growing up, I played outside way more than I played with barbies. And I own nothing that has been bedazzled.

My daughter on the other hand came out twirling. She sometimes sleeps with shoes instead of stuffed animals. She has dolls for her dolls. Is in love with anything princess and often tells me that she is one. I catch her trying to put my make up on more than I do. She thinks Barbie is an adjective. She wants Barbie snowcones, to watch Barbie movies and yesterday I even offered to give her a Barbie spanking. Her favorite color is pink. Her second favorite color is pink. And if we are all out of pink she might settle for purple. She changes clothes more times a day than Lady GaGa. She didn't get any of this from me....

And she loves to dance. Actually both my kids do. It is partly my fault. We often dance in the living room, or the kitchen or the dining room. But Tess doesn’t stop when we leave the house. If there is music playing at a restaurant, gym, swimming pool, bounce house party, church, or grocery store – Tess will stand on her chair or the middle of the aisle and dance her pants off. Sometimes literally. At dinner with my parents recently, they told me I needed to get her in dance class. At a birthday party a few weeks ago, a stranger told me she had moves and I needed to sign her up. And at least half a dozen other friends who have witnessed her free public showings have said the same thing. And I hesitated. She is still just 2, going on 20. And driving one child around to practices is hard enough. I am not in any hurry to get this girl involved. But somehow this Saturday I found myself at a nearby studio for fall registration. I brought Tess along, explaining that we were signing up for dance. She was so excited. I was unprepared and completely out of my element. Apparently yoga pants and a baseball hat were not proper attire for the moms around there. I needed about a thousand more rhinestones. And I thought I’d just be handing someone a check and writing down emergency contact information. Instead I was ushered through several stations explaining dress code and tuition and recital fees. It went quickly and was mostly painless. Except when we were leaving and Tess realized that she hadn’t gotten to dance. Just watch her mom fill out forms. And there was a melt down.

I figured it would be quickly fixed if we bought her the required dance clothes on the way home. I was even more lost in the dance store. I kind of just imagined grabbing a little black leotard, pink pair of tights and some shoes and be on my way. But it wasn’t that easy. I was lost and quickly told the first person I saw I needed help. Also Tess was not having any simple plain leotard. She quickly informed me that the ones without tutus were just bathing suits and she needed a skirt. Again, I tried to pick out a plain one. But my daughter had her heart set on an obnoxious purple one with flowers and a funky printed tutu attached. The tights were easy (except to put on). And the shoes were too. Excpet I hadn’t actually thought about how tap shoes would sound on our hard wood floors. For hours at a time. We have had them only about 24 hours and I have already hidden them! I’m sure I was supposed to buy a dance bag and about twenty bows but I’ll save those for another day.

And we got home and she immediately wanted to put everything on and turn up some music and went to town. I am going to need some help learning how to put her hair in a bun. I don’t know first position from a plie ( I even had to google it just to see how to spell it…and I don’t know how to add that accent to the e!) I might have to borrow a shirt with some rhinestones on it and I might even need a second job to pay for everything. But. No one is going to have to help me cheer her on. Or give her room to twirl.

(and I just told you she loved to dance...I didn't say she was a prodigy! Hopefully her instructor will teach her to move her feet in addition to her arms!!)

and if the scissor sisters don't make you feel like dancing...nothing will :)


Beth (and Eric) said...

Ugh, why aren't we closer for our girly girls to play together??!! Miss you, friend.

michelle said...

and their mommas!

katy said...

Just catching up on your blog. Can't wait to hear more about her adventures in dance class!