Be still, my heart.

I always thought my boys were a lot of fun, what with their roughhousey sports, assorted scheduled ball games and other antics.  But they didn't ever take BALLET.  A ballgame of a different color.

I was unprepared for the heart-pinching experience of Ada's first dance class.  Prior to the class, she was all twirley and dancey and thrilled with her tights, leotard, little pink ruffled skirt and soft dance shoes.  She whirled around the house, all confidence and big talk.  But when we arrived and took one look at a teacher we'd never seen and a small group of girls we'd never seen, and a dance floor the size of a football field, all bravery drained out of her.  She stood there, frozen.  I wanted to take her hand and walk with her to join the group, but waited just a minute and she took those first steps all by herself.  First steps are always the hardest.

Whew.  The inner circle. 

At the end of each class time, they perform their new moves, all of which have fancy names.  Ada has spent the last year perfecting the pointy toe, the twirls and the dainty little hand motions so of course she's way ahead of the class:)  A star is born. 

The closing dance with her new circle of friends. 

Ada told her dad that she didn't want to bother going to school
anymore, she just wants to dance.