So ballet only lasted a week.
We just had to get that out of our system so we could focus on more athletic endeavors (did someone say softball?).
We were going to give it one more grand finale shot when all heck broke loose right before the leotard came on. Can you force a 3-year old into a leotard and tights? Go ahead and try because this momma couldn't.
So we bailed.
It's a good thing Little Miss Twirly Pants decided to bail RIGHT AFTER WE PAID FOR THE DADGUM CLASS. But hey, as long as she's happy because IT IS ALL ABOUT HER, RIGHT? (cough, cough)
It is on to bigger and better endeavors. If we have any hope of beating out the Chinese, I've got to get her started ASAP because we all know they're competing IN THE OLYMPICS at whatever sport AT AGE SEVEN. (What? Did I say that?) We've got 4 years to crack down because this is serious business.
There is hope, though.
She came in last night after putting on her pj's (self-selected) and was wearing a #34 red & black bulldog jersey that at one time I believe belonged to my older brother(s). After a few lessons in the respect owed that jersey and the team for which is stands, she darted around the house chanting...
"I'm Herschel Walker, the Goal Line Stalker!"
but it came out a little different. More like...
"I'm Sherfel Walter, the Gold Arm Stomper!"
Hey, whatever works. We'll send her to Bulldog camp and show those boys what she's made of.
Football/ballet combo? Could be a hit.
It worked for Herschel.