Hustler

Tonight was a beautiful night for me-- it marked then end of another dance year. I don't mind that Natalie takes dance class; I love watching her bring it home and do her interpretive ballet around the house and, truthfully, she has decent rhythm. What she doesn't have is discipline. I have been watching her dance class "perfect" their "Under the Sea" dance rountine for close to three months. Invited into the studio for the last five minutes of every class to watch the cutest group of six year olds try to follow their teacher and not be distracted by their beautiful faces in the wall of mirrors before them, I have watched, my child specifially, spend the last three months doing the first two moves and then totally stare at herself in the mirrors for the rest of the song. I asked Natalie about this. To which is simply responded, " I just get bored (read: distracted) and so I stop dancing."

Thursday was her dress rehearsal and it was abnormally painful for me to watch. I kid you not, I will forever be proud of Natalie's many impressive qualities, but that dress rehearsal was not one of them. It was simply awful. I know I am her mother, but she was terrible. Her months and months of staring in the mirror paid off in that she had NO IDEA what was going on. She couldn't see the teacher, at the foot of the stage, making hand movements in an effort to direct the girls, so instead she looked at the girl to her left who also knew not what was going on. I tried to prepare Dan for just how painful it would be to watch her. He was prematurely upset for her, that she would be that kid up on stage doing nothing. Although, when a group of little girls get up on stage dressed in cute little tutus, it really doesn't matter what they do.

But wouldn't you know my daughter, the hustler, got up on that stage an actually performed. She almost knew all the steps and I was, for sure, one proud mama yet again!