So I've pretty much been planning this day since I found out that I was having a little girl 2 1/2 years ago. I anxiously awaited her 2nd birthday and called the studio the very next day to schedule her very first dance class. I had purchased every dance article and accessory- from leotards with matching tutus all the way down to the leg warmers. Yes, leg warmers.
I. Was. Ready.
Unfortunately...Quin was not.
For those of you who follow along with our adventures on Instagram (@jjmaconachy), you will know how this story ends. For those of you who don't know...here's a little recap.
Dance Day arrives.
I've got Q prepped and primped and she is cutest ballerina-- ever.
We enter the dance studio lobby.
Obviously, we are first in line.
Q and I are both bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She's skipping around the room. I'm strategically choosing my seat on the benches so that I can begin my "Dance Mom" reign and of course, have the best view of Q's classroom monitor screen.
Everyone's excited.
Q's tutu is sparkling, ballet slippers tied, buns high and slicked back on her head.
"Mommy, I do circles" she screeches as she spins around the lobby, knocking down several small children. I'm already envisioning how she will be the star of Abby Lee Miller's competition team one day.
Then the dance teacher walks out...and all hell broke loose.
The teachers make an announcement about how no parents are allowed in the room and that they'll be back with our kids in an hour at the end of class. Q looks from the teacher to me- back and forth. Surely, you aren't suggesting I follow this stranger? All the little tutu-clad girlies line up behind the teacher...except for mine- who at this point has begun heaving and screaming bloody murder while hanging onto my legs like a monkey. I walk her to class, or should I say, I walk to her class with her riding on my legs- peel her off of me and quickly back out of the room.
Back in the lobby- I've lost my optimal seating and notice how all the other moms are watching my child's tantrum on the monitors. (Dance Mom dreams on the decline...)
Eventually the teacher comes out covered in my kid's tears and snot and invites me to come sit in the room. Well, that didn't help any. In fact, it made it worse, because all the moms gave me the stare of death and then the students saw me come in and they all started crying for THEIR moms. Embarrassment and insane amounts of sweating all around.
Needless to say, this went a tiny bit worse than I had planned.
Oh well, next week will be better...
The next week, I strategically planned to have my husband drop her off since "obviously she is less attached to him and won't cry as much".
Obviously- not.
I arrive after the kids are already in class and find a seat. I find Q on the monitor and Whoa!! She is spinning and leaping around in the dance room! I am beaming.
Whew!! I knew she'd get better! She dances all the time at home- I knew she'd love it once she warmed up! I'm so proud of her...just look at how cute she looks in her little black tutu...
wait...I'm pretty sure I put her in a pink tutu today...
Yep, wrong kid.
Just as my ego is slowly deflating, I noticing the sound of screaming getting louder. Then out walks the dance teacher with my child on her hip- sobbing uncontrollably. And then...in front of everyone, she hands me my screaming, red-faced toddler and says:
"Why don't you try again when she's older? See you then."
Kicked. Out.
I'm pretty sure I've never been kicked out of anything in my life. With all eyes on us, I try to stealthily slink out of the dance lobby- serenaded by a chorus of whispers "oh, poor thing", "so sad", "what a loser mom".
Ok so maybe I made that last one up...but that's what they might as well have been saying!
Dance Mom dreams- CRUSHED! (Have I mentioned that I'm obsessed with the show, Dance Moms?)
Well, don't worry everyone...Quinnie and I are not quitters and there are way too many unused dance outfits at home for this story to have such a sad ending.
Fast Forward to today.
Mommy and Me Dance Class.
The very last resort.
After 10 minutes of leg clinging and blood-curdling screams, Q finally calmed down and...danced! I think I could even say that once she realized that I wasn't going anywhere- she actually had a good time!
So, why am I "forcing" my kid to do dance class, you ask? I'm actually not...although this blog post may imply otherwise. You see, every day she asks to put on her dance outfit. She then requests that we watch "Barney Circle" which is the excruciatingly annoying episode of Barney where they talk about dancing and show a clip of a little ballet class spinning in circles. She watches that damn thing on repeat...copying every last move those little ballerinas make. "Look Mama- toes! Me do circle!" The kid is obsessed. So I'm not forcing her to dance- she asks for it every day. She's just not quite ready to leave my side yet. And you know what...with as fast as she's growing up. I'm okay with her clinging to me for a little longer.
And so, from now on, every Thursday at 10:30 am- I will be donning my butterfly wings and flapping my arms, leaping, and crawling around on the floor making animal noises with my little Mama's girl. Because, in case you were wondering, that's what you do in Mommy and Me Dance Class.
First position can wait for now...and happily, so can Quin.
Luckily, I was able to get some shots of Q's very first day of Dance Class - before the madness ensued. Oh, the memories we are making together, my little girly...
And for those of you who asked...no, Q and I will not be wearing matching tutus to class, and yes- I do have two left feet.
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