Running a Tight Ship (or not)

Some folks might call me a TEENSY BIT of a pushover. I'm not really what you might label a "rigid" or "controlling" sort of mother (which I think is FABULOUS ... contrary to what others may feel). I operate under the idea that in order for my child to develop as a creative, unique, strong individual, she must learn who she is all by herself. And if that means letting her put a feathered boa and grass skirt overtop her winter parka to go grocery shopping with me on a snowy winter day, so be it. La functions beautifully under this sort of government. 

Sure, I have rules. La is not allowed to say mean or hurtful things, she must treat others with respect, she has to eat her veggies (I have proof in the video below), and she has to help me clean up her toys (usually). Stuff like that. She's a great kid. Her teachers simply love having her in their classroom.

But lately, I've been feeling  like she needs a bit more structure. I don't want to bruise her sweet little free spirit, but I would indeed like to curtail all the shameless burping and tooting she does in public.

I think etiquette lessons would be a bit overboard, but maybe a ballet class would do the trick.

I've been thinking about enrolling her for a while now. I didn't really come up with the idea myself. La puts on her tutu and dances around the house all the time, twirling gracefully, just spinning and spinning until I myself get dizzy. Then she suddenly stops all that nauseating spinning – dead in her tracks – and looks me straight in the eye without a single wobble and says, "Oh, mommy. I wish I could have ballet lessons!" 

And then my heart melts. 

It's just that ballet is SO INSANELY AND OUTRAGEOUSLY EXPENSIVE here in Chicagoland. I've been searching online and finally found a place that is relatively cheap (less than $20 per class), and it looks like it is rigid enough (yet fun enough too) to whip her loudly-tooting derriere into shape. Their website looks like it was designed BEFORE the dawn of the world-wide web (read: it STINKS), so I was thinking I could even work out a little swap. Like, hey, I'll fix your gross website if you give my kiddo free ballet classes.

I'll let you know how that conversation goes. 

I was browsing through the photos of the children in the classes, and they looked so ... formal. I guess ballet is a pretty formal art-form. Then I read the description of how the little level-2 ballerinas are supposed to come to class:

For ballet, plain black leotard, short, cap, spaghetti or tank sleeves. NO criss crossing, aerobic or halter style straps. No high cut or aerobic cut legs. Pink tights. Pink shoes that fit like a glove with elastic straps sewn on. Hair up in tight bun (tight pony tail, very flatly put into bun, use lots of pins, hair net), minimal bangs.

Yikes! I guess there are no grass skirts allowed, La.

If I had been enrolled in this class when I was La's age, I would have been kicked out the very first day on account of the "minimal bangs" rule. My bangs stretched across my forehead from ear-to-ear and started at the crown of my head. Yes. I was ALL BANGS. And so was Aunt M. I remember my mom accidentally cutting M's ear while giving her BANGS a trim. Since when are bangs located anywhere near one's ear? I'll tell you when. In 1986 (see below).

So, I think we're going to give the ballet thing a twirl (ha). She won't start until the fall, so we'll have lots of time to find the perfect ballet slippers. And we'll make sure that they fit like a glove. We wouldn't want to be reprimanded by the ballet police on the very first day.