Tiny Dancer
The Munchkin has just enjoyed her first Ballet Class. I guess that officially makes me a pushy mother. Not only has her name been down practically since birth, I allowed my Best Girl to attend looking like a Little Britain character. There she was in her fuschia tights and leotard and everso slightly clashing candy pink tutu.
Worse still, I had to bite my lip to stop myself from crying a total of 6 times during the 50 minute class. The way her chubby little arms and legs flailed around in absolutely no time to the music, nor her teacher, Miss Lucy. The enthusiasm was there in bucketfuls, and with a little coaching (this week we’ll concentrate on the flapping of her fairy wings) I could have a little Darcy Bussell on my hands.
Previously shying away from any form of group activity or class, I’m now beginning to see the error of my ways. Undoubtedly it’s difficult to punctuate you week with various genius creating classes throughout the week, particularly when you work. I now think that perhaps one or two could be beneficial, if not to your purse.
Next stop Mandarin. What ? China’s where it’s at, apparently.
January 18th, 2008 at 1:19 pm
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