Feeling Better, But I Still Hate Ballet

Well, I hope I’m feeling better because the first thing I’ve eaten after trying to starve the bug for a couple days was half a Fuddrucker’s burger and I can tell you here and now that those things aren’t for the faint of gut. So, we’ll see. There continue to be rumblings down thar like the aftershocks that keep hitting China. So, I’m not completely out of the woods yet.

The kid’s performance went well. I’m in a position many parents find themselves in: my kid is good at something I completely sucked at and had no interest in when I was her age. The interest hasn’t grown and developed as an adult, I assure you. Other mothers, former ballerinas, living the dream with their kids, sew ribbons, and do all the other motherly things. I mostly watch in amazement and pay people to sew ribbons. Well, actually, I beg pathetically. It’s worked every time so far. My kid is almost old enough to do it herself. That will be a load of guilt off.

My mom forced me to take ballet one year because that’s what girls do. I wish I could find the picture right now, I’d scan it and show you. But picture this: a circa 10 year old girl taking the first year of ballet which is for little kids with the little kids on the day of her recital where she was shoved into a neon orange leotard with sequins and a short, orange tutu. The look on my face in the picture is pure self-loathing and hatred for the forces of darkness who did this to me.

I hated ballet.

Imagine. Now I have this girly girl who prances around in tutus for fun and loves to dance! loves to dress up! loves to be on stage! And, she’s good. Well, at least she looks good to me. Since I have no skillz, I just watch her and marvel–she remembers the steps, she’s having fun and she seems extraordinarily coordinated for the girls her age, but I know shit about this. She could actually suck and I wouldn’t really know.

Parenting is soooo not about the parents. I know, that’s stating the obvious, but dang if the message doesn’t come home again and again when the parent is enduring what looks like frolicking, albeit, rather skilled frolicking, set to music. I don’t know if my daughter has a future in dance. She might. And she’ll probably be given a daughter who wants to play tackle football. That will be about fair.

In the meantime, if anyone asks, I love ballet! Actually, I love my daughter and since she loves ballet, so do I.

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Tags: Family