How to Be a Dance Mom

Last weekend, we attended the recital for the dance studio where Noah has been taking tumbling classes this past year. Naturally, after my 2.5 hour baptism by fire, I feel I have become an expert on the subject of being a Dance Mom.

That is a thing, you know...The Dance Mom. There’s even a terrifying “reality” TV show about it. From what I can tell, there are many mysterious rituals involved, all of which include the following items:

1. Hairspray

2. Spandex

3. Glitter

Thankfully, none of those items were necessary for Noah, who was sporting a classy buzz cut, basketball shorts, and a $2 Fruit of the Loom tank top.

Heaven help us when Sarah wants to take dance, because I’m guessing my hairstyle repertoire (ponytail, half ponytail, side ponytail, and...wait for it...TWO PONYTAILS) won’t quite cut it. But I digress.

If you’re wondering if you might be a Dance Mom, here are a few of the qualifications...

The Dance Mom must:

A. Be able to artfully administer the aforementioned hairspray, spandex, and glitter, while also keeping track of her child’s multiple costumes, shoes, hairpieces, and types of tights (did you know there were types of tights? I did not. I do now.)

B. Endure many, many weeks of shuttling her child (or children) to the appropriate classes, before and after which they will inevitably whine about how she is such a Mean Mom for making them go to this activity they begged her to sign them up for. Then there are the pictures, the dress rehearsal, the hours of getting ready...and, last but not least, the Dance Mom must...

C. ATTEND THE RECITAL.

Ah, the recital. There is a lot of waiting beforehand. It is warm in there. The Dance Mom must hydrate--but not too much, because she knows there will be a line for the ladies room at intermission! Not to mention she wouldn't want to leave during the show and risk missing the actual portion of the performance where her child is onstage. She comes armed with a camera (for a lucky few, this may be the Dance Dad’s department), several assorted relatives, a bag of activities for the younger siblings, and a bouquet of flowers for her tiny dancer, which she will try not to step on during the recital.

But the one thing she absolutely must not forget to bring is Kleenex, because that little--or not so little--dancer will make her so proud that she will be a weepy mess by the end of the night. The Dance Mom knows that it’s not about getting every step right or whether they’re on the beat or off in their own little world. It’s about the smiles and the enthusiasm and the pure joy of seeing her child onstage and beautiful and perfect in her own special way.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be a real Dance Mom. Although the kids and I have crafted an interpretive dance to "Let It Go" that is a sight to behold (yes, it involves ribbons and no, you may not see the video), the dance world might very well be better off without me and my complete lack of hot rollers and eye makeup products. But I can tell you that last weekend, my heart was so full of pride and joy for all the kids, including Noah, who did their best and saw it through to the end of the year, even when the going got tough.

And hey, this brand-new Dance Mom did at least one thing right--I didn’t squish his flower!

Wishing you peace and a joyful heart during this busy season of celebrations,

~Alison