I’m a Dance Mom! This is NOT a Dress Rehearsal.

I complain a lot about the trip to the dance studio twice a week. It’s not so far, maybe 15 minutes, but it’s all backroads and trafficky. Parking is sometimes a nightmare. The kids that aren’t dancing always want snacks and screens and it’s takes quite a bit of my patience out of me.

But then there’s this…

and this

and this

And of course there is how much they love it.

They really do. My guy doesn’t look forward to anything as much or work harder at anything other than hip hop. Maybe drama. Or legos. Or making up games that nobody else wants to play because the rules are too complictaed and always changing. Other than those, nothing else makes him happier than Miss Twyla’s dance class.

My daughter just comes alive when she’s in her class. It’s like she suddenly realizes she has a beautiful body and takes delight in all the wonderful ways it moves. From an elegant arabesque to a booty shaking shimmy. She loves it. I watch her just smile and move.

They are happy, moving their bodies, and learning. And I get in a good cry at the recital because my heart is BURSTING with pride and love and ALL THE FEELS. It’s a win all around. I need to stop complaining already :-)

It makes them like this for goodness sake…




The boy doesn’t look as happy in this photo as I describe because he has undiagnosed strep in this pic. He felt awful, but still danced. Because, well, he rocks!

Are you a dance mom? Do you love it or tolerate it?

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