Samantha had her first ballet class the week before John & I left for Jamaica. The dance studio I found for her
is in the basement of a local mall. Little did I know that I had enrolled her into a ballet class that featured moms that conjure up visions of Texas cheer leading, Olympic gymnastics, and the ever fearsome stage-mom. The classroom features a one-way mirror that the moms clamor behind to watch their toddlers run around pretending to be ballerinas. Right before they got started I thought that I would go in to tell Sammy that I would be right outside (behind the window) and one mom stopped me to say, "you shouldn't go in there to say goodbye because she will start crying." She looked at me like I was crazy for even thinking it. I just kind of smiled and went into the room to say good-bye. She did not cry, imagine that. When I returned to the one-way mirror room, a mom had moved my purse from the chair I had been sitting in to the floor. She looked up and said, "Sorry, but I always sit in this seat." Again, I just smiled, wondering what the hell I got ourselves into. For the following 45 minutes I tried to focus on Sammy running around having the time of her life instead of the ensuing creepy conversation between the other moms. To put it into perspective, at one point, I swear to god, they discussed little girl tummies. They talked about how they could not wait until each of their little girls lost her "toddler tummy". One mom said, "Don't worry, my four year old's tummy is finally flat. I think it happens when they are three." Seriously, I had to take a deep breath, whisper to myself a few Seinfield serenity nows, and pray that my internal monologue would stay deeply internal. Then I just watched my most adorable three year old, with her most adorable little tummy, dance like the princess she believes that she is.
is in the basement of a local mall. Little did I know that I had enrolled her into a ballet class that featured moms that conjure up visions of Texas cheer leading, Olympic gymnastics, and the ever fearsome stage-mom. The classroom features a one-way mirror that the moms clamor behind to watch their toddlers run around pretending to be ballerinas. Right before they got started I thought that I would go in to tell Sammy that I would be right outside (behind the window) and one mom stopped me to say, "you shouldn't go in there to say goodbye because she will start crying." She looked at me like I was crazy for even thinking it. I just kind of smiled and went into the room to say good-bye. She did not cry, imagine that. When I returned to the one-way mirror room, a mom had moved my purse from the chair I had been sitting in to the floor. She looked up and said, "Sorry, but I always sit in this seat." Again, I just smiled, wondering what the hell I got ourselves into. For the following 45 minutes I tried to focus on Sammy running around having the time of her life instead of the ensuing creepy conversation between the other moms. To put it into perspective, at one point, I swear to god, they discussed little girl tummies. They talked about how they could not wait until each of their little girls lost her "toddler tummy". One mom said, "Don't worry, my four year old's tummy is finally flat. I think it happens when they are three." Seriously, I had to take a deep breath, whisper to myself a few Seinfield serenity nows, and pray that my internal monologue would stay deeply internal. Then I just watched my most adorable three year old, with her most adorable little tummy, dance like the princess she believes that she is.
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