First Day of Ballet Class - Proof I’m not a Bad Mommy

I have two toddlers. That means I have a lot of theories about how parenting is supposed to be. You know, things that if I do them with my kids, it will make them better as they get older.

Make them independent now, and they will do better when they have to be away from me. That was my big one. My friends that have children coddle them and love them and snuggle them and cater to them WAY more than I do. I am baffled that people give toddlers the ability to choose what’s for lunch, even. I fix what I fix and that’s that. The kids play with what they want to and that’s that. Everyone just does what needs to be done with minimal coaxing and very few options.

I still hug, snuggle, and love my kids, but I expect them to do many things for themselves (such as putting away clothing and picking up toys) that many parents wouldn’t dream of doing.

While I don’t think they are parenting badly or incorrectly, I’ve always believed my way was right for my kids.

The past few weeks Sadie has been asking to go to dance class. “I want to do ballet” she says to me. “I want to be a dancer” I hear morning, noon, and night.

Finally I look up local dance studios and find one that’s a minute away from my house at a price I thought was really reasonable. I called and booked her for the year. I’ve been meaning to put her into something, and if a three year old can remember for more than two weeks that she wants to do something, well, I might just look into it.

So Saturday came and my friend D and I took Sadie in to the studio to get registered, get shoes, and put her in class. I was worried that I was going to experience that whole, “No, mommy, don’t leave me!” thing I’d heard about when kids go to school, but assured myself that when the time came, she would be fine as long as I didn’t show any apprehension.

As you can see, she was very excited to be in her leotard, tights, and on her way to dance class…

We took off her jacket, switched her sneakers for ballet shoes and walked her to her classroom. I opened the door, Sadie walked a few steps in…

…and never looked back.

The teacher asked her name, she told her (with a big, goofy grin on her face) and the teacher looked at me and said in a bright tone, “See you in 45 minutes sharp!”

I had been dismissed.

So I backed out and closed the door. We stood in the shop portion of the studio while we listened to the strains of “Part of Your World” (ah…a Disney classic…) and saw brief glimpses of the kids dancing through the room from a window that had been blocked (mostly) by boxes.

That’s when I started to cry. Not loud sobs or anything, just tears. Freely streaming down my face. My friend D asked me to stop becasue she was going to start crying, and the woman that worked at the studio looked at me knowingly and said, “Don’t be sad, she’s going to be fine.”

I said, “I’m not sad, this is the first time in my life I’ve been proud of the kind of parent I am.” She looked confused and walked away.

It’s true. It’s all been theory up to this point. I felt I was raising an independent girl that could feel secure in new situations…but I didn’t know for sure until I saw her flit like a little 3-year-old ballerina past a window I could barely see her through. I only saw well enough to see she wasn’t looking around for me. She was just fine on her own.

You can tell from this shot I got when she first came out of the classroom when it was over. She’s not anxiously looking for me. She’s actually remembering to give me a piece of paper in her hands and tell me that next week she has to “bring a baby doll to dance with.”

Concentrating on the task at hand. Just like I’d always hoped she would do in a situation like that.

I managed not to cry anymore so she wouldn’t think anything was wrong (because nothing was wrong, she was just so damn beautiful my heart didn’t know what to do.) I asked her if she had to go potty (she did) and if she loved class (she did) and then she regaled D and I with fifteen minutes worth of stories about what she did in class.

She was so happy. And I was happy she was happy. I was actually in this perpetual state of bliss the rest of the day. Ok, I’m still kind of blissful about it now. But really…how could I be anything less than thrilled? I did good with her, and she’s already a little person that I’m proud to call my daughter.

And I helped her be that little person.

I know at some point she’ll turn on me and think I caused all the problems of her universe, but it will all be worth it for these memories.

October 5, 2008 | By: Jennifer Gniadecki | Filed Under Parenting, The Everything Basket |

Comments

2 Responses to “First Day of Ballet Class - Proof I’m not a Bad Mommy”

Tiffany on October 6th, 2008 12:28 pm

Thanks for sharing this. I refuse to cater to my childern as well. And dont even get me started on cleaning. Of course my kids are older I truely believe kids have to feel they a depended on in the family. Or whats the point of being in the family.

Tiffany
Jenni on October 6th, 2008 4:26 pm

You’re doing a good job, Mom!

And she is too cute for words!