If you've read any earlier posts on this blog, you've for sure heard me talk about the wonderful ways of my devoted husband, and his neverending reserve of patience as the devout dad that he is. There is nothing the man wouldn't do for our little wonder. We've all seen the cheese commercial where the dad is forced to sit at his daughter's play table while she assures him that his princess crown wearing days are over when she says they're over...and that's pretty much Joe and Lizzy.
We enrolled Lizzy in dance class last fall. Just shy of her 3rd birthday and the youngest in her class of 3-5 year olds, we thought it was something she could have fun with due to having what seemed to be a natural rhythmic ability, for her hips didn't just sway, but actually more 'boogied' much like the dancing baby in the viral video! We have endless footage on video of Lizzy in front of the stereo or television with music playing, grooving to the music to the point where she would make herself dizzy. What that basically translated to for us if you were to see her in perfect rhythm, was her possessing more natural dancing ability than Joe and I put together.
And so, off we would go, the 3 of us to Saturday morning dance classes for a half hour of ballet, followed by a half hour of jazz...but they didn't all go quite as planned. This was Lizzy and I in roughly the first 2 or 3 dance classes where we listened intently and well, preferred to quietly observe.
Joe is 6'4"...as one could imagine, he did stand out ever so slightly among the 3-5 year old sea of pink tutus. Nonetheless, if they had to spin, he would spin while gently persuading Lizzy to do the same...if they had to point toes, he would point toes. Lizzy, being at Joe's side with him holding her hand, was assured, and as long as that worked for her, it worked for him. Just as precious, was the moment a 4 yr old standing on the other side of him, eagerly reached for his free hand making it official...he was now a much accepted member of the troop. Ballet to Itsy Bitsy Spider or jazz to the Black Eyed Peas, he executed the moves to the best of his ability all too aware of Eliza's sole focus on him, and leading her thru it all, babystep by babystep. Every Saturday morning became a case of hit and miss where never the same approach worked twice. It would be interesting to say the least, to see how the rest of the season would unfold...my biggest question being, would my husband find himself in the year's end dance recital? I however, could only be grateful for Eliza's sake, and for all, that it was Joe's dance skills called upon to hold her attention and not mine.
So imagine the elation when one fateful Saturday morning, she took the leap turning to Joe, and said quietly "it's okay Papa, you can go now", entering the dance studio doors herself to join her classmates...and stayed.
This past weekend, a long weekend, saw Lizzy perform in her first ever dance recital open to the public. Allowed only to escort her to the side stage door in the line assembly of her corps with my heart threatening to jump out of my chest while I struggled to swallow over the lump in my throat, I kissed my little marvel with a wish for loads of fun, while warning her to be quiet as she entered the backstage area as others would be performing. The stage doors open, and without so much as a glance backwards, off she trotted with her peers in her little blue tutu and hair pulled back into a successful bun...my heart stopped. The stage doors close....I thought I would die.