Pink tights. Pink Leo. Pink shoes.
Isabelle’s first day of ballet.
|Post nap, not thrilled.|
I got her all ready in her new outfit and just about burst into tears. My baby isn’t a baby. She is a little girl. In a tiny ballet class. She is already so independent it just about kills me. I’m just so proud to be her mother.
Ballet has always been special to our family. My mother was a dancer, for years and years and years. We all took dance as children. I remember how it felt to put on a leo and shimmy into those tights, I remember how the rosin smelled on the older girls pointe shoes, I remember wanting so badly to be tall enough for the big barre. Feels like a perfect place for her to be. Every girls’ dream.