Emma the Tap Dancer.

There is a sweet little girl named Emma. She is five years old and she LOVES to dance. And, as much as she loves to dance, she loves to pose for pictures. She always has a variety of expressions to give her biggest fan - her mommy.

Sometimes she gives the one leg kicked out to the side pose.

Sometimes she sticks her chest out proudly as she poses.

Sometimes she just likes to look in the mirror to see how cute she is.

And, then she travels to the stage to perform and dance with her partner, Mallie.



After the performance is over, she calls her agent... AKA Daddy - and tell him she has finished her show.

Being a star is a hard job.

She's into choreography, too.

Emma has her notebook in front of her... she has written down all her "dance steps."


This was last night - and she was going from room to room making her brothers and I watch her performance. She would yell,"Five, Six, Seven, Eight. Step right, step left, shuffle step, turn and turn."

And she would always throw the book down in front of her before she did it.

So, she moves into the livingroom where Tripp is watching tv. Spongebob, I think.
And she says,"Tripp, watch this." She throws down the book, and starts again.
Tripp is not amused.

He chucks the remote at her. And hits her.
She picks up the book and runs to Eli. And then, she starts over.

I guess three year olds don't appreciate good choreography.

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.