Tiny Dancer

She bounds into the room, far too early for the late bedtime she'd had the night before, a bundle of energy.

"Why are you up so early? You should still be sleeping!" I tell her quietly so as not to wake her brothers.

"I am just so 'cited for my dance class today! I'm so so 'cited!" she tells me as she bounces up and down.

After traipsing all around town with us to support her brothers in their endless baseball games this summer (not to mention the basketball games in winter and the football games in fall) Grace finally has something of her own to look forward to.

Last summer Grace was in the Itty Bitty Ballet class. Each week she would try her best not to cry as I dropped her off at her dance class but she would be happy and excited again by the time I picked her up at the end of class. She really enjoyed her dance class.

This year I tried to sign her up for the same class but all of the classes were in the evening (when the plethora of baseball games were clogging up our schedule) so I knew that wouldn't work. Instead I found a tap/ballet class on Tuesday mornings. I wasn't sure how she would feel about tap but I figured tap/ballet was better than no dance at all.

The minute we got to dance class we had to buy Grace some tap shoes. Turns out new shoes that make a click clacky sound when you walk were just the thing to get Grace excited about tap. It helped that her big brothers were very impressed with the cool new shoes and slathered her with compliments and praise. Such supportive boys.

Grace took to the floor and click-clacked away with the rest of the class. It was so stinking cute. Unfortunately, the teacher asked that we not stay and watch so I only caught the very beginning. After a few minutes the boys and I waved to Grace and made our way out the door. Grace smiled, waved back, and went back to tapping. What a difference from the tears that used to accompany our good-byes last year.

The boys and I walked over to a nearby park and waited our time out there. As the boys played I read my book and thought back to last year and this very same scenario. I even wrote about it in one of my favorite posts.

Time flew by and soon it was time to get Grace. I went early so that I had a chance of sneaking in and watching a bit of the ballet part of class. I caught the last 5 minutes and watched as Grace listened intently and copied exactly what the teacher was doing. I was amazed at her posture and the grace with which she moved. She was definitely aptly named.

As soon as class was over Grace ran to me and gave me a big hug. She was so happy to be back in dance class. I told her how proud I was that she was working so hard, listening so well, and really trying her best. 

Grace clutched her tap shoes and ballet shoes to her chest with her right hand, grabbed my hand with her left hand, and together we skipped out of dance class, down the stairs, and out into the sunshine.

Way to go, my tiny dancer!