She fought the ballet lessons with everything in her at first. But after explaining that NO SCHOOL in town will give her jazz lessons (what she really wants) without at least a year of ballet, she finally gave in. And though she may not declare it loudly, she loves it! For the hour she is there, she is transformed into a (semi)graceful creature who walks with her shoulders back and her toes pointed. She is one who holds her arms lightly at her sides, who gladly dons the long-sleeved black leotard and pink tights.
When her hour is over, she immediately returns to a jeans-and-Converse wearing tomboy who can burp and fart with the best of them. However, I've seen a few glimpses that the ballet lessons are having an impact on her. When she is putting on her pants, she points her toes daintily as she pulls them on. Sometimes when she is standing in her socks, she places one foot behind her on tiptoe. She's letting me pull her hair into a ponytail instead of having it hanging in her face all day.
Whether ballet will continue to grow into a full-fledged passion remains to be seen. For now, I'm treating it like a butterfly in your hand: Don't breathe on it and make no sudden movements. I feel like if I point out the things I'm noticing, she might make a beeline back to the land of electric guitars and ratty clothes. I guess if she really wants to be a rock star, that will have to be the dream that wins. But Mommy's dream is for a graceful ballerina. Oh, how we live vicariously through our children! Either way, she is adorable!
Paige's dilemma: To be a dancer....
Or a rock star?
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