Gabrielle has resumed dance class -- without Aidan, though today he seemed to regret saying he was done with dance. As we drove to the studio, Gabrielle was in heaven, and Aidan was asking why she got to do something special when he "never gets anything special". Ahem. Yeah, ok. I asked him where he went last Friday with Grandma Tina. He looked at me, slightly sheepish, and said, "Baltimore."
Back to Ballerina Gabrielle. Last week, I stayed in the class with her and the other 3 and 4 year olds. After about 20 minutes, she warmed up and allowed me to put her down. She had a great time, and when we got home, she kept mimicking the moves she learned. Today, she started off slightly shy and within about 10 minutes, she was so engrossed in the class that she didn't even notice when Aidan and I snuck out to the lobby.
Aidan drew pictures and wrote words ("How do you spell guinea pig, Mom?") and entertained the other moms while I struck up a conversation with a fellow AP teacher from Muncy who teaches the Literature course (not the one I teach) to an elite class of 8 students. I have 45 in 4 sections. Clearly a difference in philosophy regarding advanced classes.
While chatting and spelling, I could watch Elle on the TV screen in the room. She was doing great -- acting like a butterfly with scarves, hopping like a frog, pirouetting like a ballerina. After class, as we walked to the car, I praised Gabrielle's independence: "Wow, Gabrielle, you stayed in dance class all by yourself today!"
"Yes, Momma," she mused. "See, I am big but so tiny."
Ah, the middle ground between 2 and 3. Big yet tiny.