It was almost one year ago, in June, that the dance teacher, my oldest daughter has known since she was two, called to tell us she was resigning.
If you've read some of my earlier posts, you realize that this has been unusually difficult for me and my daughters.
After visiting what seemed like every dance studio in the tri-state area, we settled on one.
Today we will discover if we made a good choice or a questionable one.
At very least it will determine whether we return in the fall.
Countdown:
8:30. I wake up and prepare cinnamon rolls and eggs while everyone sleeps
9:45. I take fast shower and get dressed
Eliana wakes up
10:15. Jalena wakes up
The girls eat and we talk and realize this will be my 11 year olds 11 th official recital. She danced for two studios when she was 5 and 6.
It will be my six year olds fifth recital. Her first without the other teacher and at a different stage facility.
10:30. I start to feel nervous after talking with girls about my six year old's potty skills (though shes been potty trained for three tears, she still refuses to use big public toilets, and other idiosyncracies) and realizing she'll be back stage for more than four hours and that my helpful eleven year old is balking at the idea of keeping an eye on lil sis.
10:50. Time to start with hair and makeup
Now mama has to take a deep breath and get them ready.
Realize both girls are in their bedroom practicing their dances. Eliana announces that her stuffed elephant is acting as her star. (which reminded me of a reference to her former teacher who would have stars in the stage for them to stand behind so they knew they were in the proper place).
- - I thought I was doing ok, then the last twenty minutes happened. - -
11:35. Leave and pray the van starts. It does.
More traffic than I've seen and frustrated.
11:55. Find the school. Confused where to drop off girls. I hate public schools by the way. Another reason I homeschool. They are large and their parking lots are confusing and don't make sense.
I sent the girls inside.
11:58. Pull over to break down in tears.
Just a rite of passage. New fields. Missing the familiar. Missing the other dance teacher.
But no one was rude, the girls are excited. I held back my tears from their sight, so lets press on.
I have an hour and a half to myself before doors open for parents. Will I enjoy this time?
Why do these things make me so nervous?
Hah. Just like Jesus to send me comfort in the form of a song on the radio. As I sit here, the radio plays a song I've never heard. The lyrics started as "it's almost show time..." and then proceeds to sing about letting God take the stage.
Got a call from a stage mom. Eliana forgot to grab her dance shoe bag. Duh. This is only my 11 th recital and umpteenth performance. You'd think I'd remember the shoes.
Guess that answers if I'll relax and enjoy my time.
After pulling to a parking space closer to school, I decide to just wait it out here for awhile.
It's raining and I'm feeling nervous.
The tears I cry are mourning the loss of days gone by. A time when I had little bitties who people oohed and awed over. Time has gone by and I feel like I lost about four years. Where'd my babies and toddlers go? Where'd the fun at the other dance classes go, when other mothers would laugh with delight to watch my youngest dancing in the corner. It's those days I miss where other parents knew me and my kids and liked us.
2:00 - It's showtime!
Finally, dance #10, my first daughter takes the stage. Then, my second daughter, at dance #15.
The show continues, and I'm feeling more and more at ease.
After the show, the first thing my oldest daughter asked was if her former dance teacher showed up... Sadly, she couldn't make it. Somehow, perhaps miraculously, she seemed to be ok with this. For me, I was disappointed that the other teacher did not show up. However, in some strange way, I think it provided us with the closure we needed. And, her email I received the next morning, explaining why she could not make it, made me cry. The contents are somewhat personal, so I will not share them here.
So, onward we dance in new fields -
- A field that hands out silk roses instead of trophies at the end of the recital.
- A field that has a teacher who likes the spotlight, including singing.
- A field that includes a larger cast of older dancers than the itty bitties I have been accustomed to.
- A field where my girls are welcome to put down new roots, even if they're initially hesitant and shallow roots, sprout and eventually blossom, grow, and bloom.
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