Sunday, November 22, 2009

If I had only known!

These photos are from Olivia's last ballet class of the last session on Halloween. The parents are not allowed to be in the studio during class except for the last class of the session. So I snapped some pictures.

If I knew then what I know now I would have done several things differently (ahhh.. the story of my life!)
First thing would have been to NOT sit in on that lesson. Because little did I know that sitting in on that lesson would be the end of O's ballet career.
The next session began the following weekend. Interestingly enough, there were more boys than girls this session. There is a short tumbling portion of the class right at the end, but honestly, most of it is ballet and jazz. Call me sexist, but it seems like most 3 and 4 year old boys would not want to do that.

I don't know if having more boys than girls was intimidating for her but the second week of the new session, O clung to my leg and refused to go into the studio. I dragged her in and the teacher let her sit on the floor and watch. So I spent 45 minutes waiting for her to get done sitting on the dance studio floor. Very frustrating. She *insisted* she was sick (without any actual signs of being sick.)
Fast forward to yesterday where she, once again, protested like crazy. Clung to my leg and refused to go in. She said she wanted me to go and sit in her class with her. (Thinking here that the class on Halloween ruined my independent dancer.)

I turned into *ballet mom*. I gave her a lecture about how she loves ballet and how I don't understand how she marched into the class for 8 weeks with enthusiasm and now she's scared. I also lectured her with how mommy and daddy paid for the class and have sacrificed time for her to go. I was mad/embarrassed and waving my finger. Oh, lord, how I hate the finger wave. But I swear that finger had a life of it's own yesterday morning.

I gave her a choice. She could either go in and dance by herself or we could go home. She chose to go home. Crap. Choices backfired on me that time. So, we left. I huffed and I puffed all the way to the car. Then I looked in the backseat to a crestfallen little girl.

Then it dawned on me, I was behaving like the 3 year old! I let Olivia know that I love her when she does ballet and I love her when she chooses not to. I decided that if she doesn't want to do ballet, she doesn't have to, she's only THREE for Pete's sake. I appologized for yelling at her and asked her to forgive me. Then I had to deal with my own issues.

You know what I discovered? Disappointment. I enjoyed watching my little girl love something. I enjoyed going and being a mom of a "big kid". I enjoyed getting a cup of coffee and having 45 minutes TO MYSELF on a Saturday while I waited for her to be done. The disappointment was some for her (because I know she loves to dance and all things ballet... it really is a mystery this whole regression thing) but mostly for myself. And that is crazy talk.

Why pigeon hole my kid into something when she's 3? She has her whole life to dance. I'm going to look around and see what other classes I can expose her to while her interests are still varied. The sky is the limit for my talented and bright little girl.

As for me? I'll have to just treat myself to a cup of joe somewhere and get over myself!

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