Phoebalina Ballerina

A tiny little girl with a ready grin, big blue eyes and music in her feet squeezed my heart into little pieces today. Not to say that she hasn't done that many times before - obviously, Miss Phoebe has held my heart in her warm little hands since we saw her heartbeat blipping on the ultrasound screen for the first time. But a love of music and dancing, combined with a passion for fairies and ballerinas and anything pink, really, culminated yesterday in Phoebe's first ballet lesson.

I have always secretly fostered a hope that a daughter of mine would fall in love with ballet the way I did as a child. And yes, I understand that this is living vicariously in the most pathetic way; and no, I don't intend on being a pushy stage mama. I just know how much I delighted in studying dance, the friends I made, the joy that could be had from learning beautiful movements, and I had always hoped that one day, I might share that with my own child.

I gave up my ballet at the age of fourteen, when I began swimming training more seriously (and broad shoulders are not becoming on a prima ballerina, let's be honest!). Lots of things I learned when I was younger - ballet, piano, flute, good posture - have fallen away, much to my regret. I have thought many times about taking one of them back up again (not particularly the posture thing - I think my abdominals are pretty well shot after three kids!) but seem to find myself just a little busy. Can't seem to think why?!

Phoebe has been making up songs and little dances for about a year, and I had a vague notion of asking if she wanted to have ballet lessons when she was a bit older. I had seen a flyer for a local ballet school in the community centre last year, and stuck it on the fridge. Yesterday, for some unknown reason I was propelled to the phone, and before I could think too hard about it I was ringing the lady at the ballet school. And lo and behold, she had a class for 'tinies' at 4pm, with a space for Phoebalicious if I wanted it. Well. Phoebe was at kinder, and I had just enough time to throw Jack and Mais in the car, herb over to kinder, grab my big girl, drive home for a drink and a change, and arrive at the hall in time to meet Miss Annette.

The idea was only to see whether or not Phoebe liked her teacher and the idea of ballet lessons enough to come back next week. Before I could say "derriere", she had disappeared into the ballet studio with Miss Annette, and had launched herself into dancing like a fairy. To say my girl loved every minute is a ridiculous understatement. She was so excited when I picked her up that she danced all the way to the car...and then into the house, and around the house, and is still dancing now! So this morning we took her to buy her ballet uniform, so that she is a "real" ballerina like the other little girls.

When she put on the tiny pink leotard with the wispy little skirt and the soft, pink ballet slippers, I went to mush. My baby daughter stood looking at her own reflection, hands clasped together with joy, spinning and twisting to see herself from every direction. She looked so very grown-up in a little-girl way, and so very, very happy. I looked at her and realised that Phoebe was giving me the gift of ballet again. Even if this obsession doesn't last, she has reminded me of how much I loved it, and for however long she enjoys dancing I will be enjoying it with her.

A wonderful blogger whom I follow avidly is Maxabella at http://maxabellaloves.blogspot.com/. Every Saturday she posts about something she is grateful for, so in honour of this theme, this week I am grateful for the second chance I have been given. Phoebalicious has reminded me of a past passion, and provided me an opportunity to rekindle my love affair with ballet. Not only that, but I will be able to watch my beautiful daughter dance with joy, knowing that she is doing something that makes her truly happy. Today, she has hopped around the house in her new ballet uniform like a little sprite - a sight which makes me unutterably happy. So thank you, Phoebalina Ballerina, for reminding your mummy of the beauty of dancing (and rekindling the idea that I might one day take it up again myself!) Now...if I can just convince Jack and Maisie to try ballet as well...