Dance Class Drop-Out #3

It is official. I have not one, not two, but THREE dance class drop-outs. Just as my girls were not blessed with the curly hair gene, they were not blessed with the "dancing gene." Their idea of dance class, is hanging onto my leg, wailing like a lame puppy, while I get groovy. It's quite a sight to behold.



I though it would be fun to join a couple of Annie's friends for a tumbling class in Poway. I dressed her in the retired dance clothes of her older flunkee sisters, dolled her up with some piggy-tails tied off with pink bows, and off we headed. The place is wonderful and very kid friendly. To top it off, in my eyes, she was the cutest little ballerina there.


As if to follow in her sisters' footsteps, she immediately began to beg me to hold her when the class began.



We walked in a circle. "Hold me, Mama!"
We jogged in a circle. "HOLD me, Mama!"
We rang bells in a circle. "HOLD ME, Mama!"
We stretched in a circle. "HOLD ME, MAMA!!!!!!"



To save the others from the annoyance, I whisked her from the room, allowing her to throw herself on the floor, OUTSIDE of the studio. My attempts to calm her failed miserably, and I decided to share the experience with my Dodge Van. It certainly would not be bothered by the shrill screams of frustration that Annie was letting out. I only wish that I had the same patience. By the time we reached the second stop sign from the place, I was ready to open the door, push her out, never looking back to see where she fell!

After many prayers, and a few anti-anxiety breathing techniques, I regained my composure. I so tuned her out, that she finally gave up, cocked her head to one side, and fell fast asleep.

I wish her exhaustion was from the strenuous dancing activities that she participated in. The only body part that could possibly be exhausted is her vocal chords.

Hummm, maybe I should enroll her in a singing class?