Monday is, of course, just a suck day. There's no way around it, unless it's a holiday. Wednesday is, according to one study, actually the worst day of the week. I can believe that. Right in the middle, not even close to the weekend. And the weekend, honestly for me, isn't all that different from the week, except there is no chance of reprieve for me from my kids with a sub job.
But Tuesday! My favorite day! Do you know why? Because my hell-on-wheels, back-talking, trash-talking, time-out-living, beast of a three year old is transformed into a sweet, flaxen haired, bun wielding, hot-pink tutu wearing, twirling, whirling, smiling ballerina for 45 minutes. And it is pure heaven.
Last week her shoes came in. Amateur mums and dads handled them like raw fish, searching for the label to signify right and left, afraid to tarnish the new pinkness of them. I sat Addie down in my lap and said, "Your very first ballet shoes! These are SO SPECIAL!" slipping them on indiscriminately, because it doesn't matter until they break them in. "Now go jump around in that huge box of rosin and have fun!" Other parents were horrified, with apprehensive glances at that corner of the room. If you're going to twirl on a waxy floor, your feet need to be sticky!
I watch through the window. Sometimes her blonde little head whips around and spots me, and she breaks out in the hugest smile, lighting up the whole room. There are no other ballerinas in the room, just my little girl... until she spots a troublemaker (it takes one to know one) hanging from the barre. I plead silently she will not follow suit and get in trouble. She decides instead to check herself out in the full length mirror and shake her butt, Beyonce style. I love it!
She is excited for winter break, when she can finally put on her shiny, noisy, tap-tap shoes. I'm not so much looking forward to that. For one, the noise, but then there is the challenge of getting them off of her. Once they're on, it's kind of like the ruby red slippers from "The Wizard of Oz," the only way to get them off is to kill her... or, I've found bribing her with food works well.
I get to relive my young ballet days. I'm sure this is how my parents felt when they watched me, and now I watch my little girl. Yes, Tuesdays light up my life! Gone is the sass, the pouting, and the bad behavior, I fall in love with my little girl every time!
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