Girls and shoes

Our little Maeve had her first ever ballet lesson this morning. At just 20 months, she was such a little grown-up, taking her teacher's hand and following her into class. (All the moms were to wait outside the room. They do appease us with one of those little viewing windows. You know the kind were they can see you, but you can't see them? Ha!) At first, Maeve's expressions told me she was a little apprehensive, but before too long she was all smiles, doing 'ballet marches,' port de bras, chasses and twirls, with three other girls -- all 'big girls' all of age three and dressed the part, complete with tights, ballet slippers, leotards and tutus.

So here is the funny part. Drew was asking Maeve if she liked dance class at dinner. And what does she tell him? "Dance shoes, Papa." Without her and I talking about it, or anyone really mentioning it to her, she observed she was the only one in her class without ballet slippers and decided to tell her papa in the hopes of getting some we guess.

"You scare me Maeve," this is what Drew tells her. I say bless her heart, and you better believe I will run right out and get her some little pink ballet shoes. I have, afterall, have been waiting for this day ever since I found out I was having a girl.

Let's just hope though there's a little delay before she starts asking for the entire wardrobe to go with her new hobby.