Ballet class

A few weeks ago it was observation day in Mary's ballet class.  Normally, we can watch through a mirrored window.  But on observation day friends and family are invited into the studio to watch the class.  It's not a performance, just a regular class.  This time our whole family came.  

We all enjoyed seeing what Mary does during a typical class.  Greg was especially impressed.  I realized that I'm the one who always takes Mary to ballet, so he had only a vague idea of what class is like.  He said he liked watching class better than the performance.  I have to agree that there is something special about ballet class.  The children are concentrating and focused but it's also joyful--not a silly, saccharine joy but an inward joy that comes from working hard in a loving environment.  I wish the pictures I took captured that glow of happiness and satisfaction in the students.  (Greg and I left and thought, "David and Mary are each having the same experience!  Karate and ballet are so similar, especially the programs they are in."  We told this to David and Mary, who, of course, were deeply offended that we would dare suggest any similarity between ballet and karate.  Oh well.  Best to keep some observations to yourself as a parent.)

I have some video footage too, just some short little clips.  (And I used a decent camera so this footage isn't terrible, but I now realize I should have put the little clips into one video.  Next time.)

Warming up at the barre

More practice at the barre  (I love to watch them work at the barre.)

Ballet class

Pirouettes  (Little girls doing pirouettes--so sweet!)

Leaps

Mary's famous ballet leaps (Mary is known for her leaps in this summer's class.)

Mary's teacher, Miss Charmaine, is very sad we're leaving.  She had hoped to be Mary's teacher for years to come. After class on observation day I talked to her for a while.  It was good (and perhaps a little overwhelming) to hear her thoughts about Mary.  We will miss her and the wonderful program she has.

Mary's Awesome Fantastic Show and Other Montessori Mary Awesomeness

Mary's grandparents happened to be in town for this--

What luck!!  Each year Anna's Extended Day class learns a number of songs, dances, and plays which they perform at the end of the school year.  It's an entire hour of entertainment by one class!

(Extended Day is the Montessori equivalent of kindergarten.  The children spend the morning with the 3-4 year-olds.  Before lunch the younger kids go home, and the 5-6 year-olds stay for the whole day.  They solidify their individual reading, writing, and math skills; take on additional responsibilities in the classroom; continue to work on geography, science, music, painting, and sewing; go on outings; undertake class projects like cooking together or preparing for this performance; research various topics together or individually; and build friendships.  It's such an amazing and special year.)

Mary and her friend Nora named this year's performance "Fantastic Show!"  They all worked together on the invitation.  (Mary drew the little scene at the bottom left side--it's of the Jumping Beans play with her as the housekeeper with a kerchief on her head.)

Greg, David, Grammy, and Grandpa Steve attended the show on Friday.  Then Grandma Evie, Grandpa Mike, Sara, and I attended the show (and ice cream social) on Monday.  It was fantastic!!  Really, it was remarkable.  I was stunned.  They performed so many plays and sang so many songs and did a variety of dances from around the world!

I rarely video record much.  A few snippets here and there.  But this I really, really, really wish I had recorded the entire thing, start to finish (with a high quality camera) because it was so amazing and joyful.  Sigh. I do have a video of Mary starring in the Jumping Beans play HERE, "Fried Ham" HERE, a clip from a silly "Singing in the Rain" song HERE, and a clip from "Move to the Groove" HERE.

Best of all (for this momma), was that Mary shone.  She simply shone!  She was entirely in her element performing and serving as a leader of the class.  I was blown away.  I think my jaw was on the floor.  (And tears were definitely in my eyes.)  I knew Mary was happy (very happy) at school.  But I had underestimated the extent to which Mary was excelling and the amount of confidence and leadership she developed.  It was like I was seeing the REAL Mary.  The reserved, uneasy Mary was nowhere to be found.

After Monday's performance, we all celebrated with an ice cream social.  Mary loved being with her friends.  It was a love fest among the kindergarten girls!  Meanwhile, numerous people came up to me and commented on what a great dancer Mary is.  None of the video clips do it justice, but, trust me, that girl can DANCE.  And I had no idea!  Sure, I knew she could follow directions in ballet.  But, like I said earlier, my jaw was on the floor when I saw her really performing.  (Is this bragging?  It's not meant to be.  But when I am blown away by the awesomeness of my offspring, I have to write it down!  Perhaps I should stop being so surprised by their awesomeness.)

I was sure to get pictures of Mary with her teacher and assistant.  Mary was with them for three years.  What a special bond she has with them.

Mary and Kim W the class assistant.  Kim lovingly cared for Mary for three years.

Mary and her teacher Anna.  What a gift for teaching Anna has.  She is amazing.  She saw Mary for who she is, and Mary simply blossomed with Anna's love, experience, and nurturing.

It was an emotional afternoon for me.  I think I cried the whole time.  Call me crazy, but I really believe God led us to that school and that Anna needed to be in Mary's life. It's difficult to see something that has been so amazing for your child coming to an end.   It's especially difficult since we decided not to send Mary to a Montessori school next year.  (I know she will be fine, even excel, in a traditional school.  She will even shine--in that quiet, teacher's-pet, perfection kind of way.  But will she really shine?)

Since we are on this Montessori school subject, and I'm not sure I can emotionally handle revisiting it again in another post, I am going to go ahead and post the pictures from Mary's final Go-to-School-Night.  It happened back at the beginning of May. Greg and I had to split up that night, since we had a busy evening.  But since I had opportunities throughout the year to observe and help in Mary's class, I sent Greg with Mary.  He took these pictures.

Mary works on drawing and labeling a bird.  

Wherever Mary is, her best friend Brooke is too.  Those two are inseparable!
 (Brooke is working on tracing and coloring metal insets.)

Mary works on her cursive. 

Mary works on math with the bead frame.  She is able to work with really large numbers this way.

Anna checks in with Mary.  She gives her a little reminder when Mary gets stuck.

This girl loves her work!

A final word on Mary awesomeness--and, don't worry, this isn't about school.  Most of the weekend was centered on David.  It was David, David, David all weekend long.  But she was a real trooper.  She was definitely a little jealous of the book we made for David.  And, even though she was trying really hard to be strong, she did shed a few tears after David's baptism.  She said she wanted to be baptized now--but they were sweet, sincere tears.  But over all, she really hung in there.  She was excited for David and supportive of him.  She was helpful and happy.  I know she drives him crazy, but he is very blessed to have Mary as his sister.  I also have to give another shout out to all the grandparents for coming!  With everyone here, there was always someone available to make Mary feel special.  Thank you, thank you, thank you to you all for coming.  It might have been Mary who needed you here even more than David.

Music in the spring

Last March the second-graders at David's school put on a delightful musical performance.  They have a wonderful music program with an amazing music teacher.  The program was filled with singing, dancing, and the playing of many different instruments.  David was especially excited about playing the xylophone.  Most of all, he was excited for Sara to come hear the performance!  (Which she did ... asleep.)

The following month, in April, David and Mary each had a small, low-key piano recital at the conclusion of their respective classes.  Here are two pictures from their respective recitals.

I'm sure I have video footage somewhere, but, let's be honest, this post is purely to provide proof that it happened--and not to relive the event.  But I will say that Mary and David both did great.  It's wonderful to see your children learn and grow.  And I am pleased they are getting excited to take piano lessons (someday).

(I loved David's beginning piano class last year!  It was taught by a music therapist, and she was wonderful.  I highly recommend having a wonderful musical therapist teach your child piano.  This spring David took the follow-on piano class, and Mary took the one he'd taken last year.  But they both had different teachers, and I'd give the classes mixed reviews ... at best.  BUT one of David's buddies ended up being in his class which was a lot of fun for him.  AND Mary now loves loves loves to play the piano.  So it all turned out just fine in the end.)

Ballet spring showcase

Last winter Mary began taking ballet classes at a classical ballet school.  It has been a wonderful experience.  The school's approach is loving, holistic, and fun. But serious. Yet not stressful.  They are learning to dance instead of learning a dance.

In May the school had their spring showcase.  It was small and simple at just 30 minutes long total.  But it was beautiful and moving.  The students danced to music from Charles Gounod's Faust.  (Mary's Pre-Ballet class danced to "Les Nubiennes.")  

I do not have pictures or video from any of the performances. (No cameras allowed.)  But a week before the show, the students tried on their costumes over their leotards and practiced the dance in front of parents.  You can see a video of the class practicing HERE.

To accommodate all the family and friends who wanted to see the show, there were three performances over two days (not to mention the extra rehearsals that weekend).  It made for a busy Friday and Saturday.  But, as usual, Mary, with her remarkable stamina, handled it all with grace.

Mary off stage between performances.

Congratulations, Mary!  I brought flowers for her on opening night.
It was such a lovely performance that people were crying at the end of the show!

Mary in costume after the final performance.

When Mary got home after the final performance, she celebrated by giving Sara a big hug.

...though I'm not sure how Sara felt about Mary's celebratory hug.

Oh the sister love.
By the way, Mary looks like one of my cousins in the picture.
 (Hey, fam, doesn't she resemble Shannon or Alicia?)

Man, this year sure beat last spring's recital.  Last year was an important experience.  It gave Mary (and me) confidence and a sense of accomplishment.  Mary is still proud that she danced in front of so many people.  Most importantly, though, I now know what to avoid.  That kind of program--with the emphasis on a single grand performance with expensive costumes instead of an emphasis on teaching and caring--is not a good match for Mary or our family.  (David definitely preferred sitting through the 30 minute program to the 3-hour one!)  Mary has a gift for being graceful, and I am happy we found a dance studio that restored her love of dance.

P.S.  Locals, check out Ballet U.  I highly recommend it!  Serious, fun, quality, and age-appropriate instruction.  Also, it's reasonably priced, and they offer financial assistance in lots of ways.  The director's philosophy is that every child should have the opportunity to dance.

David's piano recital

Hooray for David!  His piano recital was on Monday.  And he rocked it!

(Please ignore the fact that he looks like he'd been crying in that picture.  He was still decompressing from a stressful day at school.  David was quite excited about the recital, especially since there was going to be cookies afterwards, as he had reminded us hourly for the past week.)

David took a 10-week beginning piano class at a local arts studio.  It's been wonderful.  The teacher is a music therapist.  So it was perfectly natural for her to include lots of movement and physicality, with an emphasis on connecting their whole bodies with music.  She is also very comfortable with wiggles.  So it was perfect for David!  He was free to be expressive and enthusiastic.

The best part was giving David the opportunity to see that practice works.  The first few weeks he really struggled with the coordination and dexterity in his fingers.  But we pushed through the discomfort, and I encouraged (okay, forced) him to practice...and, like magic, the practice worked!  By the third week of class, his fingers were comfortable, and he was able to breeze through the material.  He felt proud of himself, and he could see the effects of a little practice.  (Note:  When I say, a "little" practice, I mean it.  We're talking about 3 minutes 3 times a week.  Which, to be perfectly honest, is what I averaged  per week during my ten years of lessons.  Sorry, Mrs. Swan.)

I spent the remaining seven weeks trying to convince him that you don't play with a hand in your pocket.  David seems to think that whenever a hand is not in use, the perfect place for it is in his pocket.  (What is it with little boys and pockets??)  Watching him play is watching his right hand go in his pocket while his left hand plays a few notes, and then his left hand goes into his pocket while the right hand plays a few notes, and so on.

 "David, get your hand out of your pocket!  Leave it on the keys"  "But I don't need it right now."  "But you will in about 2 seconds, so just leave it where it needs to be!"

We made some progress.  Some.

On the final day of class, the children had a little recital.  As you will see, it was a brief, low-key affair (with cookies afterwards!!). It was just right.

David at his piano ...

The class performed a warm-up together.  Video HERE.  (Watch a few seconds to see just how wiggly David is.  It's kind of funny.)

Then it was time for their solos.  David performed "Lost Little Kitty," and he did a super job!!  (This is the kid who a few months ago couldn't even get his fingers to play one key at a time.)  Also, he did not put his hands in his pockets!!  Not once! This is a HUGE accomplishment!  Huge. HUGE.  Video HERE.  It is very sweet to me.  (And did I mention he didn't put his hands in his pockets?)

Ta-duh!

We're so proud of David!

As a finale, the class played a song together.  (One little boy couldn't make it, so the teacher filled in for him.)  I love watching this video because it is so David!  He flails and wiggles and grins and can't stand still--but he's totally into it and right on task.  (Plus, he only put his hand in his pocket once!)  Watch the finale HERE.

Then we ate cookies.

Finale (We can do hard things?)

This is the finale of my recital posts.  Little did I know one little recital was going to be so NOT LITTLE.  It definitely warrants three posts.  (It probably warrants three hundred posts.)

Okay, so here's the deal.  We registered Mary for dance through our little town's rec department.  It was dirt cheap.  Even after shoes and tights and (pricey!) costumes, it was still very very affordable. So affordable, in fact, that we went ahead and signed Mary up for both ballet and tap (and she wanted to do both).  No big deal. Low price would naturally mean low key, right?

No, no.  Not at all, my friends.  The teacher, Miss Diane, is very experienced (as both a professional dancer and instructor) and very no-nonsense.  The goal is not to create warm fuzzies or nurture some innate love of movement.  It's to put on a fabulous production.  The students begin working on their dance for the recital on day one.  Except for one time, parents are not allowed to watch.  Ever.  Hair up, tights on:  The little girls in Mary's classes were expected to listen, follow directions, and learn.  From practicing brush steps, to measuring for costumes, to perfecting second position, to memorizing a final pose--this was serious business.

If I knew then what I know now, I would not have signed her up.  But I'm so glad I didn't know then what I know now...because I'm so, so pleased  we did it!

I'll tell you why.  First, let me show you some pictures...

This is Mary rushing off to the recital.  We were running late, of course.  (As usual, I completely underestimated how long it takes to do hair and makeup.  She was a good sport and stayed calm even as I was not.)

I adore this picture.  Look at that sweet girl.

My favorite moment was when I sneaked backstage to make sure she was in the right place.  She saw me and immediately wrapped her arms tightly around my neck.  I think it was the "realest" hug she's ever given me.  Mary is emotionally demonstrative--but the emotion she is showing is usually covering up the emotion she's really feeling, or refusing to feel.  It's not often that I get a glimpse right to her core.  This hug said, "I am nervous and a little scared and I need your reassurance, but I am also okay and I am strong and I will do this and you do not need to worry about me."  I felt both her vulnerability and her strength.  I also knew that she knew that I loved her.  And she loved me too.  (If it takes a tutu and an audience of hundreds to have a moment like that...well, I'll take it!)

The recital--appropriately themed Fright Nite, having been scheduled for Friday the 13th--consisted of 20 numbers with over 150 dancers!  This thing was big!  The show opened with the advanced jazz group.  And next up was Mary's ballet class.  The littlest ballerinas are always a crowd-pleaser.  (And you only have one year, maybe two when your kid can be in the littlest group.  So cute!)  I was swooning when I spotted Mary on that big stage in front of all those people.

She was confident and serious, and her performance was perfect!  (She's come a long way, baby.)  I was so proud of her for doing something hard.  I thought I was going to levitate or lose consciousness or sprout tears--that's how proud I was.  I was clearly not emotionally prepared.

I was also not prepared in other ways.  I forgot the extra safety pins (a must, since the girls are literally pinned into their costumes), as well as makeup for touch-ups.  I also broke a cardinal rule and did not bring extra tights.  (No fear:  I scrounged up two safety pins.  Hooray for Nars blush and Lancome lipstick for going the whole distance, no touch ups required!  And Mary did not get a run in her tights.  Phew!)  After I successfully managed the costume change, Mary gave me a few more of those wonderful hugs. I knew I had earned her trust:  I hadn't burned her with the curling iron; I'd used lots of pins to keep her bow in, just as Miss Diane had advised; I finally learned how to put her spider tutu on the right way and cross the straps in back just so.  This was all way out of my comfort zone.  But I didn't utterly fail my daughter!  Woo hoo!  Not failing feels good.

So does spying your lovely little girl backstage.

(What is it about dancers backstage?  That Degas guy was onto something.)

Her second performance was perfect.  The best she's ever done.  (Even under all that pressure!)

Ta-duh!

So, dance class was not a warm and fuzzy experience.  It was work.  She was learning a dance, not to dance.  Also, the recital was a big pain in the rear--with hair and costumes and dress rehearsals and the performance itself, which was almost 3 hours long!  But it was worth it.

Mary got to be part of something big and special...

She was mature enough (and has the right personality) to listen to her teacher, follow instructions, learn, and practice practice practice.  It wasn't easy.  (It also wasn't painful or especially hard--she's only 4, folks, and no matter how big the stage, this was still rec department dance.)  But it pushed her just a little, stretched her just enough.  It was hard...enough.  So that she felt such a sense of accomplishment.  She could see all the elements and practice come together in a big, special performance.  (With the whole community!  We love being a part of our community.  Our town is just the right size.)

She did something hard.  I didn't shield her from it.  (Isn't there a part of you that wants to "protect" your child from anything hard or challenging or potentially disappointing?)  She stood on stage in front of hundreds of people and remembered her dance steps.  And she did it twice.

We are so proud of her. We committed her to something difficult, and she did it.  With grace and maturity.

We love this girl!  I am hyper-aware of the things my kids CAN'T do, trust me.  It was nice to have an evening to celebrate something Mary can do.

And how about a shout out to her brother?  Who sat through a three hour dance recital!  (He actually really enjoyed it--but it was still a test of endurance.  He did originally have a nice button-up shirt on, but that was gone by the third dance.  In his defense, it was a bit stuffy.)  David was proud of Mary too.  He had been worried about being embarrassed for her (like last time), but this time there was nothing to worry about (except "When is this thing going to end?!?").  Thank you, David, for being a supportive big brother, even when it's hard.

So there you have it.  I feel like I have been formally initiated as a mother of a daughter.  (Really, I feel like this was more of a rite of passage for me than for Mary.)  And I'm grateful for that.

It's time to start being comfortable having a daughter.  (Especially since I have a pretty fabulous one, if I do say so myself.)  I don't have any sisters.  I was raised by a down-to-earth, no-fuss mother, who was raised by a pragmatic, even less-fuss mother.  Hair bows and eyeliner and big productions of any sort are out of my comfort zone.  My discomfort is so severe that I harbor the irrational fear that if I curl Mary's hair once, the next thing you know, she'll be starring on Toddlers and Tiaras.

Which is why, had I known the amount of sequins involved in these dance classes, I would not have mailed in the check.  But, you know what, if sequins and safety pins allow my daughter to experience a sense of accomplishment, and give us an opportunity to grow closer as mother and daughter, then I'm okay with it.  (In moderation, of course...don't expect to see her on TLC anytime soon.)

Love you, Bear.

P.S.  Thus the dance chapter in Mary's life closes, at least for quite a while.  She wants to do gymnastics this summer. And next school year she'll be in school full-day, so we're going to cut out evening activities.  Another reason I'm glad we did it this year--while we could.

Rehearsal videos

I did not record Mary's performances at the recital.  (It's okay just to sit back and enjoy, right?...without experiencing life through your camera screen.)  But I did capture a little bit of the Thursday night rehearsal.  Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) my camera battery was out of juice.  I did manage to squeeze out a few pictures and two short clips of each dance she was in.

***

Early in the evening Mary's tap class was scheduled to rehearse "Ding Dong!  The Witch is Dead!"  (It was a dress rehearsal--but fortunately we didn't have to do hair and makeup.)

Mary was amazed to be under the bright lights on a big stage.  She was a little dazed, but she took the job of rehearsing very seriously.

Look at my little munchkin...

This was such a cute dance.  The choreography was adorable.  (And the munchkins even more so.)  I didn't have enough life in my battery to get the whole thing, which is too bad.  But CLICK HERE to see a short clip of Mary's tap class rehearsing "Ding Dong! The Witch is Dead!"


Then it was into her second costume and wait-wait-waiting until it was time for her ballet class to rehearse "The Incy Wincy Spider."

Finally, Mary was back on stage.

Look at that sweet class!  Mary takes the final pose very seriously (which is good, because so does her teacher). CLICK HERE to see Mary dance to "The Incy Wincy Spider."  Oh, be still, my heart.


P.S.  You might have seen Mary doing these dances before.  I posted videos of the day parents were allowed to come in to the class and see what the children had been working on.