Three, four, and five year olds clapping around in tap shoes and tutus. Ballet mothers who think they know what's going on when really they have no clue. Props that do NOT cooporate. Tears, fringe, and costume changes. This is my life.
For today, at least. The KAC spring dance performance appeared yet again. Luckily, I enjoy helping out. But as I stood there, in the wings of my old high school auditorium stage, watching the little ballerinas bounce around the stage, I can't help but wonder if I will ever be a "dance mom."
I don't actually think I will be. My best friend has danced since she was three, and it hasn't been easy for her. It's more than the physical aspects of dance--there are politics that effect young dancers from the very beginning. I wouldn't want to put my kid through that, unless she or he really truly want to dance. However, if my kids are anything like me, they won't have the talent to dance...I'll end up carting them around to soccer/baseball/volleyball/tennis/basketball games and matches. Ah, well, I suppose we'll all see what happens. It's a ways off.
peace&&love darlings.
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