Entry FeedToday my daughter had her ballet class. She gets to wear pink tights, a pink leotard, pink ballet slippers, and a pink chiffon skirt. Last week she got a pair of leg warmers. It is adorable! The girls run, jump and dance around to music for 30 minutes. There is nothing sweeter.
I always wanted to dance ballet. I loved the point shoes and the tutus. Ballerinas were so elegant - slim, pretty and graceful. I never asked my mother to sign me up for ballet - I knew my parents would find some way of telling me that I just wasn't "built" for ballet. I wasn't slim. I wasn't graceful. I never wore pink. It wasn't obvious that locked inside was a girl who loved tulle and wanted to dance on a stage en pointe.
In my mind my daughter will be accepted to the National Ballet School, and is on her way to becoming a prima ballerina.
Am I living vicariously through her? Of course! Maybe I should find myself an adult beginner ballet class and follow my own dream.
Or maybe I should just buy myself some pink tights, a leotard and a tutu and dance around the house with my daughter. It might be more fun.