My Pink Swan

Jan 19th, 2011

by Alexis Novak

For twelve long weeks, I toted my tiny ballerina to “Creative Movement” class and for twelve long weeks she barnacled herself to my side for the 30 minute class duration.  The miniature dancers tip toed into pretend sticky cake icing.  Punky clung to my legs.  The toddlers roared at the bear in the cave and hopped over the river.  Punky froze next to me, staring at the performance.  The girls hula-hooped, and held hands and laughed.  Punky clawed at my body as if to crawl back into my womb.

Us Novaks are not quitters. So every Tuesday morning I took her, her baby sister bjourned to my chest and I encouraged Punky to join the class in my sweetest non-threatening teacher voice.  This was the little white swan who dances in her tutu all day long, at home, by herself.

My frustration was bubbling over since she always wanted to go to class but she didn’t want to perform.  Parents looked at us funny.  They stopped asking me questions about my shy ballerina.  They stopped looking at us.  Every week we watched the other tots happily prance and plie around the studio.  Every non-dancing dance class made me feel more and more like a zitty middle schooler sitting by herself at lunchtime waiting for someone to say hello.  No one was ever going to friend us at this rate.

One Tuesday morning I didn’t feel up to getting two kids under three ready for an hour to sit on a dance floor studio for 25 minutes while my upper lip sweat gave away that I hoped against all logic that today was the day she was finally going to start dancing.  That morning, and with my pediatrician’s permission, we quit.

I was watching “Parenthood” last week and Lauren Graham’s character was talking her teenage daughter through her performance anxiety.  The gist of her speech was that no one warns you when you have a child that they are not you.  “You look at them and think they are you but they are not you”.  Simple enough but hard for my brain to accept.   The mom was trying to protect her daughter (and possibly herself) from the audience’s reaction to the music she was going to play but instead the mom made the daughter second-guess herself and wilt.  I don’t want to do the same.

Punky’s anxiety gave me anxiety and I had no clue how to handle the situation.  I am pretty sure that parental insecurities are exactly what make people insane, Barbra Hershey-like stage moms.  And I for one will not be featured on “Toddlers and Tiaras” anytime soon.

I think Punky and I both need to sit out this dance season.  We will go back at some point in a year or two.  Until then, Punky will be performing every day, by herself, in her living room, and usually to Michael Jackson.

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Written by Alexis Novak2 Comments

2 Responses to My Pink Swan

    Tanya Wed, Jan 19, 11:41am

    Reply

    very touching story- very cool- she will shine on her own time in her own milky way!! I love you girls :)

    Running Betty Mon, Jan 24, 3:42pm

    Reply

    I grew up dancing. I waited with baited breath for each next dance class. I would then come home and dance around the living room. I saved all my pink slippers for “someday”. When Someday came and I finally took my own daughter to dance class it was not for her. I didn’t understand. She wanted to quit.

    Now my daughter is a runner. MVP for her Cross Country team to be exact. And I was the kid in P.E. clutching a stitch in my side during the timed mile run.

    Nope, she’s not me. She’s very much herself with sprinkles of mommy and daddy on top. But aren’t the sprinkles the best part?

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