Ballerina Girl.

Emma started taking dance over two years ago.

I still remember the excitement of the very first day. I had finally got a girl, a girl that was a girly girl. She loved to paint nails, fix hair, and twirl and spin. So when "we" got the chance to take ballet, "we" jumped on it.

Anyways, back to that first day. I had shopped for leotards, tights, and soft little pink ballet slippers. I had bought hairbows that matched different styles and colors of skirts. I had purchased a special bag to carry her things in. And then, on this one particular Saturday morning, we were off.

As we pulled in to the parking lot and got out of the van, she seemed a little scared. She stopped, looked up at me, and slipped her tiny little hand in mine. I leaned down and kissed her soft little cheek. I knew that I would remember this moment forever.

In we went. She loved it. She danced, twirled, and jumped. And she has been dancing ever since.

Today, due to unfortunate events (so I thought) I had to leave work and take Em to her ballet and tap classes.

I stressed about the wasted time, the things I could be doing. I worried about my unfinished schoolwork, the dinner that was not going to be made, the boys that I would have to leave with someone. But, again, as we walked in, I thought about how much I need this time with her, how she needs this time with me. I was thankful to be able to go be with her, and we could do something together.

Her teacher, Mrs. Beth, invited the mothers to come in and watch the girls perform at the end of class. They have began using the bar during this quarter. I was so proud when I watched Emma. She knows all the positions. She can plié. She holds her hands "just so" above her head. She dances. And then, at the end, she runs over to me and hugs and kisses me. She was glad that I was there. And so was I.