:on ballerinas and letting go:

we hopped on the bed, her eyes wide with excitement as i pulled her tap shoes from the bag. i showed her how to work the buckle and watched as she practiced taking them on and off, wanting to be sure she could switch out her shoes between ballet and tap. i wondered in my mama heart, who will help her if she struggles with this?

a mama's heart, always preparing them, equipping them, encouraging them along this path to maturity and independence. children are a gift, something to care for and love and grow the best we can. it is not in the growing that is the hardest, it is in the letting go. 

a ballerina must have a ballerina bun, oh no!, i thought. i should have googled this! too late. thank god for friends that stop by and have purses full of bobby pins. together we managed a messy bun that made the ballerinas eyes squint, showing the little wrinkles that appear when one experiences true delight.

she twirled in front of the mirror ending in her best ballerina pose. she giggled at herself and the beauty of it all. i looked on begging my mind to remember. this moment of discovery- realizing you love something you've never done before. the moment of joy- realizing beauty can be found in a pair of pink tights and tap shoes.

we walked into her dance school together, she introduced herself and answered all the questions the receptionist asked. i'm in first grade and i homeschool, she said. we sat and waited together for her class to be called. she asked a half dozen times, is it time yet? the anticipation overcoming her time little frame. we had the conversation we always have about blessing others. reach out to all but especially the quiet ones, i reminded her. 

the door opened and my ballerina jumped to her feet and took off, no looking back, only forward, to the goodness that lie ahead.

so i'm letting go little by little and letting her become all that she is meant to be.

:on joining in her glorious delight:

these were the days of pastures for miles and cows right across the street. occasionally we would wake up with one standing right in our front yard, smart thing found its way out of the fence. while standing awestruck at the sight of this monstrous beast in our yard the sweet smell of roses tickled my nose.

just across the yard were roses of every color, shape and size. their fragrance filled the air. blue hydrangeas around every corner, beckoning bees for miles. my grandmother, with every single white hair in place and a slight hunch of the back, would make her way to the yard one step at a time. she would drag that old water hose, skinny green, to each of those precious ones and quench their undying thirst caused by the summer heat.

her driveway was paved and i lost count of the miles as i turned round and round that patch of cement. singing made-up songs as loud as my lungs would allow.

age took hold. the desire to grow up made its way to the top of my priorities and i didn't ride my bike anymore.

***

after dinner we snuck out of the house for a bike ride around the neighborhood. the first of many. our ride, peaceful. only the sound of lawn mowers in the distance and our wheels turning on the pavement. she pedaled as hard as her legs would let her and i coasted by her side. from time to time she would look over and smile, mouth open wide with delight. i let her lead the way. after a couple of miles i thought she'd be ready to head home but she insisted we take the other circle.

its hilly, i warned.
i don't mind mommy. 
so on we went.

at the end of our course there was a steep hill that terrified me for her. i pictured broken bones and missing teeth. we stopped at the top and i told her to use her brakes on the way down.

i'm cautious.
she is not.

when i gave her the word she pushed off with all of her might, head forward, eyes wide. as she glided down the hill of doom she let out a yaaaaaahoooooooo. it was at that moment that i relinquished my death grip on caution and joined in her glorious delight.




*just writing with heather

:on having adventures:

they took off their shoes and socks in a frenzy, rolled their pants to their knees, adventure just ahead. making their way down the hill with the help of daddy tiny feet stepped into chili creek water for the first time. mud squished between toes gave way to distorted expressions that turned to smiles as bright as the morning sun.

my big girl immediately took off, not a care or fear in the world. her only goal, to seize the day, delight in the moment. her carefree spirit made me want to take off my shoes and jump in like i did when i was a kid. "life is but an adventure or nothing at all," right? that helen keller, full of wisdom.

the boy, so much like me, straight laced, careful and tidy, made peace with dirt and mud. covered from head to toe in the glorious brown, found joy in what he once thought precarious. he walked the bank throwing rocks, laughing a boisterous laugh when they landed with a splash in the face.

he pointed in affirmation as daddy jumped from bank to bank over his tiny frame. that man, a hero to my little ones and rightfully so.

we took them home and washed away the evidence of a hard days play, but the memory lingers. they had an adventure they will never forget....neither will i.


*linking up with carissa for miscellany monday