My tiny dancer
Those that know me personally can attest that I am all girl.
I attempted soccer at age 15 to humor my dad, but I didn’t make it through the first scrimage game before I was escorted off the field with a broken wrist.
Sports have never been in my cards. I’m good with it.
So naturally the day my doctor told me I would be having a “girl”, I immediately envisioned tutus, big bows, and DANCE. I knew having a girl wasn’t a definite getoutofsportsfree card, but I knew I could throw as many things at her as possible and see where she blooms.
So we gave her some options and she choose dance. And my goodness, she’s a natural.
Dance has proven to be not just about the tutu’s and ballet slippers though. We are going into week 6, and my goodness she needed this. She needed it for her self esteem. She needed it for her social skills. She is the product of a stay at home mom and needed to be put in this unfamiliar situation.
And while I tend to be a little self conscious about my struggle to let go, each week I am able to stand a little bit further away from the window and let her soar. It’s good for her, it’s good for me. I think about the olympic gold metal athletes and the kids getting full ride sports scholarships to big colleges…. I’d bet they had a parent that was afraid to let go when they strapped skis on their child for the first time or gave them their first bat and glove. It’s what we do. Eventually we take the training wheels off and are left to guide. I find it so amazing when you hear stories of kids doing one sport/hobby since they were 2 or 3 or 4 years old. What determination and dedication from the parents and kid both. It starts with today. Its letting go and watching them soar.
