Last weekend was jam packed with holiday fun. We went to see the Nutcracker on Sunday. It was performed by the students at the dance school that I attended and that my older daughter currently attends. I spent half the time watching the ballet, a quarter of the time watching the expressions on my big girl’s face and a quarter of the time sobbing like a fool. Watching the production is like watching my childhood.
Some things haven’t changed at all in the sixteen years since I was part of the cast. Some things have changed dramatically. Costumes, set designs and choreography; they were both old and new. I danced almost every role from the littlest angel to the Sugar Plum Fairy. I cried as the angels flitted down the aisle and stood onstage holding their little lights. I cried when my own little girl turned to me and said, “I want to be the Sugar Plum Fairy”. It was music to my ears.
She’s got it. The ballet bug. She performs for us at home all day long. She’s already talking about being on stage for her end of the year recital… in June. She has a grace that is quite unusual for a three year old and her knack for picking up on choreography is uncanny.
Just tonight she came in to the kitchen while I was making dinner, half galloping, half jumping with her hands crossed in front of her. I asked her what she was doing and she kind of shrugged. Then I said, “are you doing gangam style?” She nodded. She has seen that music video once and watched all of the 13 year old boys at my cousin’s bar mitzvah doing those signature moves last Saturday. I sincerely hope she didn’t pick up on any of the other moves they exhibited. Kids these days!!!
There’s no doubt that she gets the majority of this passion and prowess for dance from me. It’s yet another example of how my DNA runs through her; a vortex of genetics. It both scares and thrills me.

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