45 Minutes of Blitheness

I have enrolled Claire in a beginner's dance class. Its a class for three and four year olds where they do 15 minutes of tap, 15 minutes of ballet, and 15 minutes tumbling, all while wearing leotards. How can that not be cute? I have taken Claire twice now and words cannot adequately describe how much I enjoy watching her and the 12 other little girls tapping their toes, shaking their hips, twirling in circles. . . you get the picture. It just makes my heart happy. There is just one caveat that threatens to mar my blithe viewing pleasure.

If there is one thing I know about Claire is that she can be in her own little world from time to time. She loves playing with other kids, but she also is just as content playing on her own, pretending, make-believing, dancing to the rhythm of her own imaginary drum, taking the fast train to downtown la la land, as we say on the east side, yada, yada, yada. I am not oblivious to the fact that her listening skills are somewhat lacking- oh she can hear fine, because you can be calling her name for ten minutes without a response, but as soon as you say the code word 'Popsicle', she is all at attention. But really, she's three- a little distraction is to be expected.

So knowing Claire as well as I do, I was interested/excited/worried to see how well Claire would listen and follow instructions in her first structured dance class. Let's just say Claire didn't fail to entertain.

I wish I could show you the video of her first day at dance, but I can't get it onto my computer. It was hilarious. Claire is standing in line with the the other girls, whom are all actually listening to the teacher, while Claire is hugging the girl next to her, showing her finger that has an ouchie to anyone within an arm's reach, hopping up and down, turning back to wave at me and say cheese from across the room when she sees I have my camera. But the biggest distractor of the day was that darn wall-size mirror in front of her. Sure, the dance teacher is fun and energetic, but she's got nothin' on Claire's reflection. Why would Claire pay attention to the teacher when she can just strike poses and admire her gazelle-like dance moves in the mirror in front of her the whole time?

Now what concerns me about this is that Claire was the only one doing this out of the 12 other little girls- they were all dancing along with the teacher. Of course, some did cry and run back to their moms; some occasionally strayed from the black line they were standing on; some sat down when they were suppose to be standing. But Claire was by far and away the worst listener! I heard "Claire this" and "Claire that" so often from the teacher that I am sure all the parents left that day with at least one child's name memorized.

I wasn't embarrassed. I was highly amused. And maybe the fact that I thought it was horribly cute is the reason why Claire has the worst attention span out of all those girls her age- can you say 'indulgent parent'?