Tiny Dancer

Isabelle performed in her fourth dance recital on Saturday.  She has been studying ballet, tap, and jazz since she was three years old and has such a natural, raw talent.  She's had a great sense of rhythm since she was a baby, shaking her hips and bouncing along to her Daddy's guitar.  This year, she advanced from a Primary to a Level 1 class, building on the fundamental elements she has learned in years past and really developing a strong sense of technique.  She has a real passion for dance and looks forward to her weekly class with great joy.  

I myself have danced my whole life.  It is such a big part of who I am and has afforded me so many adventures and life lessons.  Dance has created a bond between my daughter and I, allowing us to share a passion and understanding of one another.  This year was the first time I watched the show from the audience:  a mom, not a choreographer or performer.  I performed in my last show when I was four months pregnant with Brees and decided to hang my ballet slippers up this year to focus on our growing family.  It was wonderful to sit back and watch my sweet girl shine, allowing her to be in the spotlight and live through her moment.  But part of me was longing to be on that stage more than anything.  Something inside of me felt a pull, a yearning for the feel of the lights.  I think those types of feelings are healthy, they are motivating and inspiring.  I will be ready to take to the ballet bar again one day soon.  But, for now, I enjoyed being able to sit back and enjoy the show, to snap photos relentlessly, to bring her flowers and ooh and ahh over her medal.  And when she spotted me in the audience and gave me a wink, my heart knew that this was exactly where I was supposed to be.

     
  She was perfect, smiled beautifully and looked like she was genuinely enjoying herself.  We were amazed with how much she has matured this past year performance-wise.  She carried herself so well and didn't seem the least bit nervous.  Brees watched the whole show with her big, bright eyes.  I wonder if she inherited the same dance gene?  What will her passion be?  Will I have two little girls in tutus?  I look forward to watching them both grow and discover their interests, whatever they may be.

As we were driving home, I caught a glimpse of her ballet slippers as she propped her tired feet up.  What a testimony these are to her busy year, the countless hours of plies, jetes, and releveres.  These are definitely going in the memory box, a treasure I will keep forever and visit for inspiration.