Parent night at dance class!

I have been looking forward to tonight since the first week of August, when Turner started her very first ballet/tap combination dance class.  I could hardly wait to see her this unique element - her first major activity that doesn't include us there to assist and guide her.  Turner was beaming when I picked her up from Rhonda's today and squealed with delight when she saw me and exclaimed that we were going with her to dance class!  She's talked and talked about this for a several days.

To be perfectly honest, the dancer in me wanted to see her remember the prepared routine - I wanted to see her love dancing as much as I do.  The teacher in me wanted to see her obey the teacher and show as much discipline as can reasonably expected from a three-year-old.  She is the youngest in her class by a few months as most of the girls turned three prior to August, so as in any situation we weren't sure how the age difference would manifest itself.  And she missed class last week due to the CWE party so with Thanksgiving it's been three weeks she's done these routines.

Mark and I were astonished at how beautifully she did - she was obedient, respectful, and performed with enthusiasm!  She loves the stage, which admittedly she inherited from me, and she just smiled and smiled and clapped her hands with excitement when she'd catch our eye.  Being the little diva she is, it was quickly obvious that she thought all the cameras in the room were there for HER!  She kept smiling at other people as they snapped away at their kids - she had no clue the other cameras weren't pointed her direction!

We were probably most proud (especially considering some of the minor struggles we've had with separation in this context) that although several other little girls ran to their parents when we all entered the room, Turner stood at the bar proudly as she had been asked.  She looked so BIG and so grown standing there at the bar, not shy, not intimidated by 20 strange adults with various cameras pointed her way.  I. Was. Am. So. Proud.

It's funny how your emotions change when you become a parent -and by funny, I mean torturous.  Seriously,  I totally get that this is 3 year old dance class.  But, deep down, if I'm honest...I wanted her to do a good job. I wanted her to be proud of herself.  I wanted her to be confident and not insecure.  I wanted her to enjoy dancing.  I wanted her to be able to learn and retain the movements like the other girls who are older than she is. I can see how I might be a nutcase before she survives middle school?  I have no idea how my precious mother is still mentally sane (which Mark would argue is debatable anyway) after watching me perform in as many piano recitals, dance recitals, and pageants as I've put her through in my lifetime.

I was also thankful that I could finally get a better understanding of the songs they use to teach some of the ballet technique each week.  Turner will randomly break into song in the shower, singing songs about "squishing marshmallows on the floor" and "scoop up bubblegum off the floor - if you bend your knees it will turn into English peas".  These make so much more sense in context! :)