Thursday, September 16, 2010

I Hope You Dance

No matter how cheesy that song is or how many times I've seen its chorus splashed across a scrapbook page, I always get a little chill when I hear it. I think it's the sentiment of the thing that gets me. Being a shyish, bubble girl myself, I sometimes have to force myself to pry my body free of the wall and actually join in the world around me.

Unless children are involved. It must be the teacher in me, but I have no problem making a fool of myself in front of kids. That, in fact, is the reason that I didn't get any photos of Amaya's first ballet class--I was too busy twirling and grand pliƩ-ing to be bothered to record the event for posterity. I knew the dance teacher had a heart of gold when she asked me--clumsy, elephant-footed me--how long I'd been dancing. I hope I didn't offend her when I laughed in her face.

Do you see how cute this studio is? It's a princess wonderland. No wonder I feel so at home there.

These fairy crowns were so cute, and so easy to recreate. They're just wired butterfly garland halos with streamers/ribbons attached. The girls loved them. Amaya spent a good 5 minutes just checking herself out in the mirror. Not that there's anything abnormal about that. Girl is a diva.

Here's a fun video to give you a feeling for how the 45 minutes goes--just picture me standing next to her mimicking her moves. Or trying my best to anyway.
I really don't think I need to worry about Miss Petunia sitting idly by on the sidelines, do you?

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