A Fine Line

When I was a kid, I got to pick one thing to do.  I took ballet for a year, when I was very young.  I liked it, I can't remember why we stopped going.  I took piano lessons for about a year.  I hated it, I never practiced...I was horrible.  Same with the trumpet I tried to play for...about a year.  My mom's rule was that I couldn't quit.  If I signed up for something, I couldn't quit it.

Eventually, I found softball and that's what I stuck with.  I was always playing softball.  Fall ball, winter conditioning, spring ball, summer travel ball. If I wasn't at home, I was playing softball.

As an adult, I'm a bit regretful that I have zero musical ability, but as a kid I never felt sad that I stopped any of the instruments I tried.  It just wasn't me.  It probably still isn't, but it would be nice to sit down at a piano and play something every once in awhile.

Now kids are so scheduled.  My kids are all under the age of 7 and already we've done ballet, tap, jazz, cheerleading, swimming, soccer, and girl scouts.  Ainsley has asked to take gymnastics and ice skating lessons.

When you work full time and have three kids, it is tough to do everything your kids want.  I can't sign her up for a gymnastics class at 4 on a Tuesday afternoon.  We can't go to swim practices at 7 AM every summer day.  Most of our extracurricular activities happen on the weekends.

Since Ainsley was 3, we've had dance every Saturday morning.  She has loved dance.  Now, let me be clear...she's not the best dancer.  I see the other girls in her class, she is right in the middle of the pack.  There are girls who are just naturally good at it.  Ainsley is not naturally good.  But she has worked hard and always learns her steps.  The thing that Ainsley has over most of the girls I've seen her dance with, is personality.  She is a performer.  She has imagination and energy.  She may tangle her feet during a shuffle ball change, but she does it with a smile on her face and lightening in her eyes.

At least she did.

This year, things changed.  We had to go with a different teacher.  Same studio that is owned by friends, but now the owner was no longer her teacher.  The owner that Ainsley has just adored from day one.  The owner that was teaching ballet, then tap/jazz beginning at 4PM on Wednesdays.  We live 30  minutes from the studio and Ainsley doesn't get off the bus until 4:15ish.

Immediately I saw a change.  This teacher had a different style, one that I knew immediately was not going to work with Ainsley.  I wanted to give her a shot.  She was new, all of these girls had been dancing together with the same teacher for years and she needed to assess their abilities.  But as the weeks went on and I watched Ainsley laying down in class, twirling during instruction, and talking to herself in the mirror - I knew this wasn't working.

About three weeks in, it was a fight to get her to go.  That was in September.  I told her she had to make it to the winter show.  They had already started preparing and she had made a commitment and it wasn't fair to bail on her teacher and class.  She made it to the winter show, even though I felt like she had learned next to nothing.  She didn't know her steps and for the first time ever, was nervous to be performing.

After the winter show I spoke with her old teacher.  She thought maybe we could bring Ainsley to her class and just not attend the first hour of ballet, but keep her in tap/jazz.

We agreed.  Ainsley agreed.  It would mean giving up after school cheerleading, but Ainsley so bad wanted to be back in her class.  So now I leave work a few minutes early on Wednesday, pick up Cohen, pick up Ainsley and rush across town to get there by 5.

The first week we were 10 minutes late.  As we walked in the classroom, I could tell Ainsley was nervous.  And I could see that she was behind the other girls.

Last night, we were right on time, but as soon as I sat her down to change her shoes the tears started and she told me she didn't want to go.  She had been saying it all week, but I thought she'd be fine once we got there.  It took me and the teacher 10 minutes to convince her to stay.  So she danced, through tears at first, but then her smile returned and I saw her laughing by the end.

There is a fine line between quitting and knowing when its time to move on.

Sure, I'd love to be able to play the piano...but know what?  There was only once that I wanted to quit softball.  I played for 11 years and only once did I entertain the idea of quitting.  I started at 7, played all the way through high school, tried out for the college team and that's when I knew.  It was time to move on.  I did and I don't regret it.

But with a 6 year old, how do you know?  It is a struggle to get her there.  It is something that I know nothing about, so I can't even help her.  I don't like seeing her cry.  I don't want her to think it's okay to quit, but I also don't want to force her into something she doesn't enjoy anymore.

Right now, I 'm pushing her into it because I know how much she once loved it.  I'm trying to view it like I view forcing her to eat broccoli.  I know what's best...but do I?  Or does she?

I'm hoping it gets better, that I see that big ole grin on her face even when she misses a step.  That she lights up the stage even when she's turning the opposite direction of everyone else.  She is not the best dancer.  She will not be a Rockette or perform with the American Ballet...but I do love to watch her love dance.

Separation Anxiety

You know how everyone tells you that little boys are awesome for their mommies?  That they are cuddly and sweet and love their mommies first and foremost?  So life as a mommy is not complete without a little boy to cuddle and love on?

Well, that is not totally true in my case.  Freddie is pretty sweet.  And when he is very tired or sick he will cuddle for a minute.  But really, I got my cuddly little lovey in Ainsley.  She loves to be held and hugged and touched and loved on.  Freddie is independent.  Ainsley, not so much.

I don't think Freddie has every really had an issue with separation anxiety.  I mean, there are times he's cried when I've left him at daycare and he is a bit shy around strangers...but ongoing, long term anxiety?  No. 

Ainsley on the other hand...Ainsley is her mama's girl through and through.  It is ego boosting and nice to be the light of some one's life.  To be the one person that a little girl wants to do everything with.  I do love it.

However, it can cause...issues.

It is dance recital time all over the world.  This is our week.  We had blocking on Sunday, dress rehearsal last night, and the performance is Saturday.

Blocking went very, very badly.  My sweet girl, who is usually very outgoing and loves attention would not get on stage.  She was coerced with Starbucks scones, but then she cried so much that she had to be removed from stage.  She watched her class dance from the sidelines.  The week before, in her last class, she wouldn't leave my side.  The teacher managed to get her dancing for a few minutes, but basically she was in my lap.

This sent me into a panic.  How could this happen?  My energetic, boisterous little girl was petrified to be separated from me.  How would I drop her off for dress rehearsal?  How would I detach her for the performance?  A time when she'd have to be away from me for 3 hours or more?  A time when people had paid for tickets and were traveling long distances to see her dance for 3 minutes?  Would she do it?  Would she get on stage and do her dance that she's so amazing at?

I spent all day yesterday in an anxiety ridden fog.  I thought about it all day.  I literally did no work.  My neck is still sore from the tension I was feeling

The time came and I picked her up from daycare, drove to the auditorium, and did her hair and makeup.  Clif was going to meet us to take her to the drop off room.  We thought it might go better with him.  But I was a mess.  I was on the verge of tears all evening.  I snapped at Freddie a few times.  I was sweating like I was on a treadmill.

I just wanted to see her on stage.  I was sure she was in the prep room bawling her little eyes out and refusing to go on stage.  Although, I knew I hadn't abandoned her, what kind of story was her wild, almost 5 year old mind spinning?

Know what?

She was fine.  Totally fine.  More than fine.  She did her thang on stage better than I've ever seen her do it.



So I ask you...who has the separation anxiety?  Me or her.  Hmmm....

(She's the first on the right in the back row.)

That's a Wrap!

Miniature tap shoes clickity-clack across the stage as a collaborative "awwwe" drifts from the audience.

I am a room mom, so I don't have a seat.  Instead, I'm standing backstage so I can see the dance before taking the girls back to their room.

The audience is giggling slightly as the tiniest performers look for their marks.  They are adorable in their sequence leotards, pony tails and poodle skirts.  It's impossible for them not to steal the show.

I am only about twenty feet from Ainsley.  I watch as she misses her mark and practically stands on top of the girl next to her.  She never misses her mark.  She knows that she's always number 18.

The music begins, and from the rafters we hear Shirley Temple belt out "When I Grow Up!"

Ainsley looks my way.  Oh no...

She cups her hands around her mouth and yells "Mommy?!"

I motion for her to look at the audience.

"No!  Mommy?"

"Ainsley, please look at the audience." I say more to myself than to her, I doubt she can hear me.

"But Mommy, I have to tell you something."

The first verse is almost over and so far she has just stood facing left, yelling off stage.

"When are we gonna do the finale?"

"At the end.  Do your dance!" I say loud enough for her to hear me.

"Ohh...okay," she grins.

The song continues I want to be a dancer...


Ainsley twirls right, while the rest of the girls twirl left.  She also twirls twice, while the others twirl only once.  She steps right in and catches up with the rest of the girls.

At first I am sorry that she didn't quite get it.  It was her one chance. The backstage crew around me are laughing and congratulating me on how cute she is.

As the song comes to an end and the little girls blow their kisses to the audience, I step out to wait for them.

They are excited and eager to get back to the room and see their parents.

Ainsley rushes over to me as I lead them all back.

"Mommy, did you see me?"  She is beaming.

"Yes, I saw you.  You were amazing."  And I mean it.  Most likely she will never perform such an impromptu side act again.  Next year, when she dances in this production, she'll be almost 5.  Next year, she'll understand that the finale comes at the end.  Next year, she'll know the routine better.  Next year, we won't have such a unique memory.  So I'm no longer sorry, now I'm thankful that I get to relive that moment over and over again.

"Can we do the finale now?" she asks.

"Not yet, but soon.  Can you show it to me?"

She stands and brings her arms over her head slowly.  Then they come down and clap in front of her.

Next she throws her left hand down and yells "Bandichuck, oh yeah." Then her right hand goes down and she yells again "Bandichuck, oh yeah."

Bandichuck, oh yeah.  What? You've never heard that song!  Oh, I forgot to tell you, the performance was of Grease.  Bandichuck, you know that song at the end...oh but you may know it as the Hand Jive...

Born to hand jive...Bandichuck...

You see the connection, don't you?