W: It's a good thing I practiced (see earlier blog entry), 'cause this stuff ain't easy. As if the large motor skills aren't challenging enough, my teacher tells me what to do in FRENCH! No one told me about this part of dance.
For instance, this is not, as it may seem, "standing on my tiptoes." This is a "releve."
But I liked it. I like my outfit and I like my teacher. These are the right ingredients for happiness. (I also liked watching the big girls dance across the hall. Whoa.)
And now, Julie here: Seeing the Big Girls was a crazy experience for me, in a very different way. Watching them, I had the very distinct feeling that I was right back there, so distinct I could feel the elastic straps across my feet and smell the shoe leather. No time had passed. I was thirteenish and at the studio as a dancer. Then I saw myself in the enormous mirrors, holding my infant and ushering my preschooler off to her class across the hall. I was not there to roll off my legwarmers and dance (and, shockingly, none of them were mistaking me for a classmate!) I was mom. It was time-warpishly surreal. Wonderful and weird.