Passion

My girl quit karate.

It was a long time coming, I guess. Although she always had fun once she got to class, she consistently resisted getting ready and out the door, there always seemed to be an excuse that warranted the plea to skip it. It became an ordeal. An annoying, inconvenient, expensive ordeal for all of us. When she signed on for a play this fall with rehearsals every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evening, karate no longer fit into the schedule.  We would have loved to see at least one of our kids make good on that ACHIEVE BLACK BELT EXCELLENCE vow, but the time, training, and expense that would be required for that level of commitment were not things we were inclined to force or cajole at this juncture. Again. So she quit.

The play was all consuming and spectacular. Godspell! When the run was over, we were in agreement that we'd need to find a new physical and creative outlet for our perpetually whirling dervish.

She wanted to dance!

It just so happened that a brand spanking new studio opened right down the street from our house. This is unheard of in our family...as a rule, our kids do not develop activities or friendships that reside within 20 miles of home.

We dealt with some shit, we took a rest week, I went to Vegas, and then it was the time on sprockets when we dance. I called to set up a free class to give the new studio a whirl (as it were), made sure they were open on the Veterans Day holiday, and let my girl know that we were on like donkey kong.

Her response could best be described as...passionate.

Passionate sounds better than in-freaking-sane, right? Girlfriend freaked the frack.

Here's the thing: she has never before agreed to try something new without getting a friend to try it with her. This led to many missed opportunities in her little life, and she'd finally realized that if she really wanted to dance, she would need top step out on her own. She handled this on an intellectual level just fine, but homigerd when it came time to go for the trial class? She went out of her ever living gourd.

She screeched and wailed about dying, suffering, failing, farting, falling, flailing, meeting all manner of miserable fates if she went through with it. It was intense! I mean, it was funny but it was also enough to get this recovering shy kid in a mom suit's heart pounding right alongside her girl's.

When we got there, they didn't know she was coming.
There was only one other student in the class.
It was a younger boy.

She went in
She danced
She absolutely loved it