Life Hands Me a Lesson in Parenting - The Ballet Class

Everytime I think I'm "getting it" PARENTING looks me in the eye and says, "Try again, sister, you still have no clue what you are doing."

Camdyn wanted to try ballet badly.  A few of her friends take ballet class and she was aching to try it.  I decided I would enroll her at the Y.  The cost is low, there isn't a big committment if it wasn't a fit for her, and I thought that would be a good starting point.  She took 2 classes with the 3 and 4 year olds.  She was the tallest and probably oldest child in the class.   She did exactly what she was supposed to do, and even surprised me with how quickly she caught on.  She moved through the ballet section of the class with ease and then tied on her tap shoes and learned how to shuffle step.  She liked the class, but she kept telling she wanted to be in her friend's ballet class. 

Last night, she participated in the friend's ballet class.  It was a class of 5 and 6 year olds, and Cam was now the youngest and greenest dancer on the floor.  She struggled through the barre exercises.  She didn't know the terminology and much to my surprise the teacher wasn't really helping her.  The teacher was calling out steps, but not really helping Cam, who doesn't even know what a tondue or a rond de jambe is.  Cam did fairly well at the barre and through the floor exercises, but when it came time to do their dance she began to goof off.  She's rolling on the floor, she keeps running over for a drink of water, she sits on the floor when everyone else is standing, she tries not to participate and then the teacher says, "Camdyn.  If you are not going to dance with us then you need to go sit with your mother."  So, she does.  Then, it's time for tap and things quickly get worse.  She is sliding around the floor in her tap shoes, spinning in circles, she's not following directions and the whole time, I'm sitting there STEAMING.  Why can't she just do what she is supposed to do?  Why can't she just pay attention?  My level of frustration is quickly rising. 

Then, Cam decides she doesn't want to dance anymore, so with 10 minutes left in the class she is sitting by my side watching.  I'm irritated.  I tell myself, I knew this would happen.  I knew she couldn't handle being in the class with her friend.  I tell her that we are never coming back to Ballet Class.  I'm embarrassed. 

We get in the car and I decide that I can not speak to her.  I don't want to say something I'll regret, and I'm so irritated and angry at her behavior that staying silent is the only thing I can do.  She starts to cry.  And, then I open my mouth.  "Why Camdyn?  Why can't you just do what you are asked to do?  Why don't you listen?"  She cries harder.  I cry. 

And then she says....

"I couldn't do it Mommy.  I don't know those dances.  You need to teach me.  I want to go back to that ballet class but I need to practice.  Can we practice in the garage.  NOW."

In that moment, everything that I thought I knew about my child and her behavior (good or not so good) that day, flew out the window.  The reality of what she was saying to me stuck me right in the heart. 

She was frustrated.  She was not misbehaving on purpose or just because....she was on overload.  She couldn't do the steps and she knew it.  She tried faking it by twirling in circles, or coming over for water, or just sitting on the floor because she couldn't do it.  If you've ever watched a 4 year old do ballet, it's awkward.  They don't know how to move their little bodies in specific ways.  She had no idea how to tell her little feet to do what the teacher was doing. 

Then I got angry, why wasn't the teacher taking 15 seconds out to help her?  Instead she was just giving commands and plugging along.  Granted, I understand that they can't stop the class for one child, but this is not an advanced class.  It's a class for all experience levels, so why couldn't she take a minute to help her, to praise her efforts, and to make it enjoyable for her?  The teacher certainly did that in the 3-4 year old class.

So, while I was sitting there fuming, watching Camdyn misbehaving, I should have been standing alongside her, helping her.

When I tucked her in bed last night I asked her, as I always do, "What was your favorite part of the day."  Her response, "Going to ballet, mommy."

We'll be working this weekend on our arabesque, and shuffle hop steps, and next week, I'm bringing my tap shoes, and if the teacher won't slow down to help her, then I will.