Tiny Dancer

I am the oldest of three. This was both a blessing and a curse growing up.

A curse in that being the oldest means you are your parents' guinea pig. Whatever rules and regulations don't work out with you end up getting tossed out with the younger kids, who live a decidedly more carefree existence.

A blessing in that I was the boss. I directed the "plays" we put on, I was always the princess while my sister was demoted to "duchess" (which I assured her was better than a princess), I teased my brother mercilessly, and I evicted my sister's Barbies to the roof of the dollhouse (I told her it was an apartment) so that I could have the other two floors to myself. I was truly a joy to experience childhood with.

In comparison, I'd say that Michaela Byrd has it pretty good. Natalie occasionally makes her be a cat when they play, but they get along pretty nicely when it's not after 4 pm.

Michaela Byrd's sole complaint was most recently when we took Natalie for the first day of ballet class and she realized that she was not going to be attending class as well. My friends, the dramatic performance she put on in the parking lot was nothing short of Oscar-worthy. Wailing, with big alligator tears, "But I want to daaaaance."

I felt like the most evil heartless mother in the world. How do you explain to a three year old the economy and the concept of money and the fact that it (unfortunately) doesn't grow on trees? So I distracted her with snacks and Barbies and coloring books until we could get home and I could tell T that we needed to reevaluate the budget.

Then we went out and shopped for some new ballet slippers (her play ones from home were too small), and a new black leotard small enough to fit a child whose caloric intake is smaller than a caterpillar's.

And Wednesday was Michaela Byrd's first day of ballet class. She's a little young...my grandmother ran a successful dance studio for many years and would never accept children younger than four for various reasons. But I think if Nannie had been able to come with us last week, she would have made an exception.

Michaela Byrd was in her element. She was in the studio dancing before the instructor had even started class. It was so much fun to watch her follow the movements and have fun with the little musical games they played. They even performed a small recital at the end of class. Her only disappointment was that they "didn't do arabesque."

Arabesque or not, making a little room in the budget was so worth seeing her little face light up when she marched into the studio. And my face lights up whenever I think about it.