dancing

i don't fit well in the world of dance moms.  i didn't grow up dancing and i have no idea of what to expect from our children.  i watch intensely and have become friends with one mom who does know, and who herself is a dance teacher.  she watches and sometimes writes notes on observation day.  she is backstage during the show for both afternoon and evening performances.  she has asked her children to be dedicated to this sport, competing and practising multiple times a week.  i kinda like her and as much as she asks a lot of her girls, she hears them when they say they would like to stop.  she has taught me to participate, to not be afraid to ask the question i have no idea the answer to, and to push a little harder when desire is shown.

i didn't ever imagine dance for our girls, but i did imagine them building into each other, supporting and encouraging each other.  my heart gets a little overwhelmed when i watch them.  and maybe i cry a little too.  you pour into your kids, whether dance or soccer or art or music or games, we pour into them.  we drive them, we make sure their uniforms fit, that they are well fed, we ask them all the questions we can think of to get some sort of idea of how they are doing in it.  we ask them to practice, we ask them to preform.  we teach them and squeeze them when they think maybe they haven't done such a great job...cause to us, they couldn't have done any better.

and so i cry sometimes when the curtain pulls back and the song starts that they have been practising to since christmas.  my heart stops for a second and then swells as they take their first steps onto that stage.  and from where i sit, they have already completed more than i could have asked.  they have accomplished goals, they have supported each other from the wings, and made sure they are okay as they wait in the green room.  that is my heart.  not the dance but the love they share with each other in the process.