Ivy had her it ballet class on Thursday. There is just something about taking your little girl to her first ballet class... I mean, it's not that I harbor any great ambitions for Ivy to become a serous dancer. In fact, I am pretty sure I don't want her to be serious about this-- can you imagine the work?? But I sure did get into the procurement of the little pink leotard, the dancing shoes; putting in the high pony tail, complete with a bow... It was all surprisingly magical, considering the great event took place in the aerobics room adjacent to the fitness machines at the Rec Center. Mr. Victor, the instructor, is a wiry older man, who provided a delightful juxtaposition to the gaggle of 3-5 year old, leotard clad little girls prancing joyfully around the room. So much pink! So much spinning!
Ivy was thrilled when her best friends arrived, throwing her arms around Lillian and happily comparing footwear. These three. Could they be any cuter? They were very clearly some of the youngest girls in the class, but they did fine. Eagerly joining the group, they waved to us without a care as we left. Melinda and I had a lovely time walking/talking the track and since none of our girls came out of the room before class ended, we assumed all went well. Ivy reported that they "gallopded" and was sad to leave. Shall we do it again next week, little ballerina?
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