Tutus and tears

by Andrea

My daughter Sarah is 2.5 years old. She is amazingly confident. She is the kind of girl who will say hello to anyone (bikers, scary old men, sullen teenagers, clowns in costume) and she has never had a problem with leaving me. She's been in full-time daycare since she was a year old. She knows the routines. She knows that when I leave I always come back. She knows how to have fun on her own and with others.

Flashback to Christmas, and to her squeals of joy when she got ballet gear from Santa. I had signed her up for a dance class called Tutus and Tumbling, which is once a week and geared to kids her age. She has been talking about it (and practicing) ever since.

So imagine my surprise when I dropped her off at the class today. It started out fine. She marched right in and showed everyone her ballet slippers. Then she showed one of the other mothers how she likes to jump.

Then it was time to leave...

Parents aren't allowed to hang around the studio. As much as it would have amused me to watch 10 little whirlwinds festooned in pink finery, I was planning a good 30 minutes of me time.

I left, got a paper and a coffee, and was about to sit down when I thought I'd sneak a peek at darling Sarah. And there she was shrieking and crying and begging for her mom.

Gadzooks. I thought my heart was going to fall out of my ribcage. This kind of behavior is so unusual for her.

I put my coffee down (on a shelf over a coat rack, oops) and went inside to see what the problem was. There was no consoling her. She was miserable, and was quite the sight. Ever since she was a baby she has had this thing with her eyebrows. They get immensely red when she's upset. In fact, it's always been something of a tantrumometer for us.

She wouldn't leave my side. She attached herself to me like a cat to a can of tuna. About 20 minutes later, one of the instructors asked me to leave, saying that "they normally stop" when the parents are out of sight. I tried it, but could hear her sad wails all the way across the outer room.

I lasted a few minutes, then just couldn't take it any more, besides, the class was practically over. I went back, only to find her plastered against the door, crying uncontrollably.

Fast forward to tonight: we ordered Chinese food. I read out everyone's fortunes. Coincidently, Sarah's read:

"You will go to ballet class. You will not be shy or make a fuss."

She was pretty amazed. I will let you know if it worked.

Comments

[andrea]

So here's the update.

We've been psyching her up all week. ("Remember what the cookie said!" etc etc.) This morning, when she was asked who she wanted to take her to class she chose her father. This was fine with me.

When I got there (daughter #2 has a class that follows Sarah's) I didn't hear screams coming from the studio, I didn't see her panicky father pacing tracks into the carpeting.... all good signs.

Upon further investigation Mark told me that it's been a 'no tears' experience for her so far. But she wasn't exactly participating either. When I peeped into the studio there she was, sitting on a chair in the corner, quietly observing, swinging her legs and tapping her toes to the music.

So, not exactly what I wanted to see, but a definite step in the right direction. :)

[barbara]

did it work?

[Mynn]

Hahahahhaaa ... I have to remember that one. :)

[Kelly]

How resourceful! Keep us posted! Poor little bunny with her red eyebrows. They are such mysterious creatures.

[Emily]

Hope it works ,you clever mom!