Dancing Shoes

Amy is the ballerina in our family. From a very young age, she made it very clear to us that she had no interest in gymnastics, "my" sport, and the sport that I foresaw all my daughters participating in. She only wanted to dance, so she spent the last year twirling and tapping in a weekly class at the Y. She had a wonderful year, made good friends, and adored her teacher, but the options were limited at the Y, so we researched local dance schools and finally decided upon a nearby facility. She begged us to sign her up for a week of summer dance camp at this school, so back in April we did just that. She spent the past few months eagerly anticipating her new experiences, and telling everyone that would listen about her new dancing academy.

But last week, as she counted down the days until camp on July 20th, she discovered something new.

"Mom, where will you be waiting while I'm dancing? Will you be out in the car or in the waiting room?", she asked.

This stopped me short. She's attended summer camps at her preschool before, so I assumed that she had been aware of the fact that camp was a "drop-off" event. I explained to her that we would be at home while she was at camp...or at Beth's swimming lessons...or doing errands. She would stay at camp for a few hours, and then we would return to pick her up.

The tears began flowing. She begged us not to leave her there. She told us that she just couldn't be left alone. She worried that we would forget to pick her up. Dan and I worked hard to reassure her, and on Monday morning Dan took the morning off from work to take her out to breakfast and then drop her off at camp. There were a few tears, but she settled in nicely.

She's having a wonderful week. She's learning dance routines, preparing for tomorrow afternoon's show, she's been making crafts, tie-dying shirts, and playing games. There have been a few more brief teary-eyed moments, but overall it's been a wonderful experience for her.

It's amazing to me to see how hard she's working. She's not following her big sister's dreams, or my dreams, of flipping around in the gym. She's my little ballerina, and she's following her own dreams.