Fe-Fe's World Of Craft, Creations and Kids.: My Baby Ballet Dancer

Tuesday, 18 November 2008

My Baby Ballet Dancer

Ellie has started taking dance lessons. In the class she takes she does tap, ballet and modern dance all in the one session. She went for a taster session last week and loved it so on Saturday we went to a shop in Stockport to get her all the "gear" she needed.

This is the photo of her I took just before she went in, doesn't she look adorable?!

Unfortunately despite asking for the right uniform in the shop the lady sold us the RAD uniform instead of the ISTD uniform so tomorrow I am going to have to go back and see what can be done. I don't think we can get the money back because she's worn them but I am starting "Mum's tap" on Friday so I'm hoping they may give me a discount on some tap shoes as compensation. Here's hoping!

6 comments:

ScrapMomOf2 said...: Oh my goodness, she IS adorable! Look at that smile on her face! You're going to take tap too? How cool is that? Good luck with your dancing ladies!!; 18 November 2008 at 21:09
Anonymous said...: Absolutely adorable!!; 19 November 2008 at 00:18
Deborah said...: Just as adorable as can be! Reminds me of my grand daughter Bella, she also loves her dance! Bella just started her second year and turned 4 last Saturday! Enjoy! Deb; 19 November 2008 at 01:59
Bee's Zen Garden said...: She's cute!♥ I just registered Naomi for a modern jazz dance class (after she tried it out), and bought the black leotard, leggings and shoes...and then after that she decided she didn't like it and threw a fit in the hall of the dance school! :-(

I'm glad Ellie looks enthusiastic! :-); 20 November 2008 at 15:25
Anonymous said...: Oh my gosh Fe, how CUTE is SHE ?!?!?!?!; 20 November 2008 at 18:47
Dawn said...: Oh Wow Fe - she's a proper little lady - so cute in her dancing uniorm!; 22 November 2008 at 23:05

Post a Comment

Ode to Special Mums

Ode to Special Moms(by Erma Bombeck)

Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures and a couple by habit. This year, nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children. Did you ever wonder how mothers of handicapped children are chosen?

Somehow I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to make notes in a giant ledger.
"Armstrong, Beth, son, patron saint, Matthew.
Forrest, Marjorie, daughter, patron saint, Cecilia.
"Rudledge, Carrie, twins, patron saint, give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."
Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a handicapped child."

The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."

"Exactly," says God. "Could I give a handicapped child to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel."

"But has she patience?" asks the angel.

"I don't want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she'll handle it.
"I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has his own world. She has to make it live in her world, and that's not going to be easy."

"But, Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."

God smiles. "No matter. I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."

The angel gasps, "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?"

God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she'll never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a 'spoken word.' She will never consider a 'step' ordinary. When her child says 'Momma' for the first time, she will be present at a miracle and know it! When she describes a tree or a sunset to her child, she will see it as few people ever see my creations."I will permit her to see clearly the things I see...ignorance, cruelty, prejudice...and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life, because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."

"And what about her patron saint?" asks the angel, pen poised midair.

God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."

"Welcome to Holland"

"Welcome to Holland" By Emily Perl Kingsley

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away...because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss. But...if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.