Dancing was a big part of my childhood. I loved it, from the very first time. I think it helped me to develop skills I still use now, I made lots of friends. And I enjoyed escaping myself for a bit and being someone else.
I loved feeling exhausted after a day spent dancing. I loved preparing for a show and performing and the lights and costumes and all that jazz (literally).
So I'm not sure why I was so reluctant to send Grier to dancing classes. I suppose I wanted her to disover all her talents, not just get sucked down one narrow alley. I'm also a bit uncomfortable with the emphasis on body shape and size which is so prevalent in the world of dance - at all levels believe me.
And lets be honest, it's just a big, pink, cliche isn't it? But I don't remember a time when Grier didn't dance and twirl. Since she was tiny she has bopped and swayed when she heard music. She loves stories about dance, she dances out stories. She loves pink with a scary passion.
So we did it, we took her to preschool ballet. And she was so happy she nearly cried. And now months later when she knows it's Tuesday (Ballet Day) there's an extra spring in her step. When she sees her ballet outfit layed out she literally squeals, every single time. She becomes even more animated when we get to the ballet school and chats with her little friends. I've caught glimpes of her through an open door. Feet together in position, arms raised high, tongue slightly protruding in sheer concentration and it's lovely to see.
We'll see what happens, maybe she'll outgrow ballet for another interest further down the line. Maybe this is just the way things are meant to be. It's my job to show her the world and let her choose her own path. Even if it's pink and sparkly and spotlit.
I finally got around to knitting this cardigan for Ballet Days. Thanks to Granny for the pink sparkly wool. It's also on the generous side but I was so fed up of knitting things which just fit and squeezing children into them for longer than I should.