Dear Mom hop, two, three

Dear Mom hop, two, three

Claire started Irish Dance lessons this month. For 4 years now she has watched the brightly colored dancers up on stage and you could see her dreamy eyed stares were conjuring up visions of dancing beside them.

She would imitate their twirls and jumps oblivious to onlookers and in her head she was as fabulous as any a dancer ever was, which means she thought she was half as graceful as she looked through my eyes.

The day she turned five she asked me, “Daddy, do I start dance lessons this week?” I had already found out lessons did not start till August. “You have to wait till the end of the summer.” I reassured her the time would come but it was little comfort. Every week she would count them down, “How many days now?” She would ask, then counting days on an imaginary calendar she would wrinkle up her nose. However many days that was it was entirely too many. “So does today count as a day?” Anything to shorten the time. “Yes, today is a day, but it does not count as a full day till you go to bed. So, when you go to bed tonight and wake up in the morning it will be one less day.” I had tried many versions of this explanation but none of them seemed to do anything but require more questions.

As August approached the start of dance class was pushed to September. Then as September approached it was pushed to October, then November. FINALLY, classes would start. Now after two classes her entire calendar is set by dance class night. There are no more Monday or Tuesdays, it is the day before dance class or the two days before dance class, then afterwards Thursday is the day after dance class. “How many more days till dance class Daddy?”

The instructor does not allow parents to watch. I have found a pub close by to wait out the class. She comes out all smiles. I ask her, “What did you learn today?” “Hop, two, three,” she answers. “Can you show me?” This inspires a barely comprehensible sequence of her feet moving that I encourage with a, “Great job! Can you teach me that?” “Maybe,” she answers, “it is very difficult.”

In the car as we are fastening out seatbelts she asks, “How many days till dance class Daddy?”

I am sympathetic to her plight and I want her to be excited about learning something new, but I refuse to wish for a single day to pass by any faster.

Love Mike