Dancing ballerina

If you told me 10 yrs ago I will wake up at 4:30 am, struggle to put false eyelashes on my little girl, know what a bun builder is and tear up every time she goes on stage, I would have laughed and walked away thinking you are crazy. 

A dance mom - no way! 

Isn't it funny how our lives turn out? We end up doing so much of the things we vowed we'll never do. We just don't know until we are in that spot and have to make the decision... stay at home vs going back to work...send them on the bus for hours or homeschool for a while. Decisions so easily made before we had kids, and now that we've loved them and held them and know what brings them joy all those heavy labels and stereo types fly out the window and the decisions are based solely on them.

It doesn't matter anymore what other people think, it matters what our children think - who they want to be - how they want to live their life. And so we go out in this world and introduce ourselves as a homeschooler - a dance mom -  or whatever other labels we would've never chosen for ourselves... and we see the judgy looks and we hear the criticism and fear filled thoughts - but somehow we persevere and move on. A little stronger each time in our decision to do what works for our family...

So for now, I'll squeeze my way into crowded dressing rooms, and glue rhinestones to her cheeks...why?...because she LOVES it... and I love her...

And after all the busyness I am happy to have her with me, as we paint ballerinas and dye our old stained clothes and fresh new blue. 

IF - faded

Like a faded spring blossom or a wilted lilac flower, 

  her smile   faded 

     by evening's end...

I know how this gal feels... we had such an incredibly busy weekend, surviving our first ever dance season and final show - enough to make any mom feel a bit faded by the end

...having to remember feather gloves, the perfect shade of lipstick, a gallon of hairspray and a gazillion hair pins, 

...to tell a little ballerina not to do twirls on the dusty floor with just washed stockings, don't cry after I put on mascara, don't kiss anyone with the lipstick - but oh please have FUN ;)

At 7:30 - past her bedtime and supper time, she appears on the big stage, I'm perched right up and so nervous for her. She has a huge smile, mine is even bigger. Tears fill my eyes and my weary heart pumps up with pride. We did it, she is doing it AND she is having FUN. Beautiful chaotic mayhem, as only a group of preschool ballerinas can do

Afterwards we pick her up and swirl her around - our little girl a performer!

She is on a performance high, hugging her friends goodbye, showing us some of her own moves - now twirling on the floor and I don't care. Lipstick smeared she looks at me - "I wanna do that again!!!"

And even though I am exhausted I feel her joy, I remember how childhood fades so quickly, and how as adults we need to sacrifice our own rest to make their childhoods absolutely magical...and so I commit to another year of being a certain ballerina's mommy - making a note to save the lipstick and invest in hair pin stocks.