Bumblebees and Butterflies

It has always been my dream to have a little ballet dancer. I’ll never forget an adorable four-year-old girl dressed as a lady bird in one of our concerts standing frozen at the front of the stage while the rest of the ladybirds tried their best to perform the dance without her. For the entire routine the girl stared into the audience, mouth agape. Finally the song finished and she was ushered off the stage remembering to wave over her shoulder, having spotted her parents.

So it was with some dismay that I noticed my one and only daughter turning into a tom boy around the age of one. In the proceeding months hubby took great pleasure in teaching her the skills involved with rugby – the boys having shown little interest.

The biggest eater of the three she was certainly, er, rotund. After witnessing yet another impromptu training session of our tubby ginga being converted into a rugby player I decided enough was enough. “Hey,” I voiced. “You’ve got your two rugby players, leave my ballet dancer alone!”

I will just say that it was all in good humour and I wouldn’t really have a problem with my daughter choosing to play rugby but it must have been a phase because by the age of two and a half, without any interfering on my part (honest) her feminine side began to emerge.

She began following me around and watching me closely and no longer wanted to wear sneakers with everything.

She’s also obsessed with dancing on stage! (Now where did that come from?) Actually, despite how it’s looking, this derived as a result of her older brother performing in his school production last month. She delights in “turning around” for our guests and can even point her toes … if raising a bent leg in the air and hooking your toes like a claw qualifies.

During these school holidays I decided to take the kids to a puppet show. The night before, after I’d announced it to them, a sleepy Jayla asked “Mummy, tomorrow I go in the show and do a twirl?”

I tried to explain that she would be in the audience but the next morning the first thing she asked was “Today I go on stage and turn around?”

It took all of my might to hold her back off that stage so the next day Jayla was enrolled in Bumblebees and Butterflies dance classes which puts on a show at the end of the term.

After meeting her daddy at the door with the announcement, he murmured a response before frowning at me over her head. “She was showing good signs of becoming a rugby player,” he tried one last time. “You should see her when she gets fired up – she can even tackle Cadeyn.”

“Hmmm,” I pondered. “Do you know Jayla’s class is actually called Bumblebees and Butterflies? … Maybe I can sign Jai up for the Bumblebees …”

At that point, strangely, the conversation came to an abrupt end.