Friday, April 7, 2006

Jekyll and Hyde

It's a trap.  I swore I wouldn't do it, nope, not gonna do it; and yet I did.

I signed the girl up for her first dance class.

Partially because she really is interested; partially because it's an hour long, and I'm hoping that will go a long way in wearing her out.  :p

I got her all suited up and ready to go.  Surely she is the most adorable child in the world, I thought, as I took in her little form in the tights, leotard, and tap shoes.

Until I looked into a classroom full of tiny dancers, and heard myself say "awwwwwww" before I could stop it.  I was good.  I turned and left her there, and didn't venture back up until the class was nearly over.  I told myself it would be better this way, that she not see me and ham it up; not paying attention to the teacher.  Mmm-hmm.  She didn't even notice me leaving.

As I stole a peek into the class, I felt myself holding my breath.  She was right next to the teacher, following her every move, looking up at her like she had the secrets to the universe.  She'd alternately follow along in the mirror, and moments passed before she saw me...grinned, waved, and kept on following her teacher's lead. 

I think my heart shifted a bit to accommodate some more growth.

She had a great time.  I thought she'd knock out when we came home, but she proceeded to hound me in the kitchen, "Is it ready yet?" before running off with a stolen piece of chicken.  She was starving!

Later that night, all the boys were in bed, and I changed the channel on the tv, inviting her to sit in my lap for a snuggle.  I wasn't really watching, I just wanted to hold her.  I muted the tv and she objected.  "I want to watch my baby shows," she said.

"It's bedtime, just come sit with me,"  I told her.

She repeatedher request, and I said no again.

Then, she muttered under her breath...before uttering a sentence sure to raise the hackles on any parent.

"You're not the boss of me."  Complete with head toss and foot stomp.

Well, well.  From infinite cuteness to infinite bratness, all in the span of 4 hours.

I think the speed with which I got out of the magic chair and crossed the room to her gave her an idea that she was in big trouble.

She started apologizing and crying immediately, and I still scolded her, gave her a swat (don't call the authorities, it was teeny) on her bottom, and sent her to her room.

She went straight to Daddy.

Who offered her no sympathy and made her apologize too.

So much attitude, in such a tiny package.

Use your powers for good, child, I thought, as I took her hand, and led her back to the magic chair. 

I held her close, smoothed her hair, and the next thing I knew, I was startling myself awake.

She slept on, and barely stirred, even when I put her into her own bed.

Harnessing the power of infinite cuteness for good is hard work.


deniden said...

Dance classes are actually really good for kids (typically), I took them for about 12 years and I didn't turn into a stripper! LOL. I actually miss dance, if they had adult classes, I'd go back.

Also, keep in mind that in 20 years, she'll be using that line you so hate on some boy you will so hate, and you'll be so proud of her, lol.


screaminremo303 said...

I think Deni is the exception. The Wee One was undoubtably the cutest one there, but don't think for a minute any of us are buying the "...that outfit? It's just an old used thing I had laying around."

I hear Club Tattoo has a kid's club.

perkysgrl said...

Oh I'm sure Audrey loved the dance class...

Rowan still likes hers...from time to time :)

it does wear her out though... thats a good thing!


ekgillen said...

Dance classes sound absolutely precious!
The largest attitudes come on the smallest packages! :)  

tdain2003 said...

I love how you tell a story.  I loved the line, "I think my heart shifted a bit to accommodate some more growth."

True, enough... it's tough watching them grow and test their independence.... you're a great mom...


jevanslink said...

Dancing without poles is something entirely foreign to Remo. Doesn't he remember his early days with The Village People?  Mrs. L