Pink tights. Pink Leo. Pink shoes.
Isabelle’s first day of ballet.
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| 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.
And she loved it.
My mother is teaching the pre-ballet classes for the little girls and I hate to brag but she is good. Really good. She knows how to be creative and use her imagination and get small in a way that other adults can’t. She has always had a special way with children but its just so fun to watch her with MY children.
(Madilyn’s bun was so, so awesome.)
I could not stop taking pictures. And I think I said “this is so cute” about a thousand times. We watched for 45 minutes as the girls paraded around the floor, learning basic positions and pretending to be flowers.
Can’t wait for next week. (and the next!)
Cute! I wish I could have taken lessons from your mom when I was a wee one.
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I wish all my little granddaughters had Cindy June as their teacher. Who could be more fun?Not one person I can think of.Madilyn and Isabelle as well as the other cuties in the class are lucky girls.
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