Ballet

It is 10:30 p.m. and the house is finally quiet after Molly's big dance recital of the year.  There is a lot of formality to the whole thing, with dress rehearsals and make up instructions and a big, dark stage with a "curtain that opened all by itself!"  But Molly is in the very youngest group of dancers, and there was one little girl that refused to even go on, and another whose hair piece fell out on stage and cried (loudly) through the whole routine.  It was not so much dancing as just an experience.  One that most of the little girls, Molly included, found incredibly exciting.

There were older girls in the recital too, though.  Much older.  And they were really dancing, leaping through the air, lithe and incredibly graceful.  They were beautiful.  I was never a dancer growing up, was never graceful or lithe or glided anywhere.  And it's kind of hard to imagine a child of mine ending up like that.  But you just never know.  Dance on little girl.  Dance on.