Tuesdays are officially dance day and dance night at our house. The mornings begin with me checking that the dance bags are full of leotards, tights and shoes. My husband takes Skeeter’s dance bag. He picks her up from daycare, picks Munch up from school, and takes them to Skeeter’s ballet class. I pick Skeeter up from dance class on my way home from work. Then we head home to dinner where my husband and Munch are eating. I have approximately twenty to thirty minutes to eat before I head out to take Munch to her hour of dance class: thirty minutes of ballet and thirty minutes of tap. This is a delicate dance of back and forth, to and fro, that requires so much planning. If the night takes a turn for the worse, then we end up like the one kid in tap class who cannot get the intricate rhythm of a time step with the rest of the class.
Tonight was one of those nights. I did not understand that Skeeter could not go to the bathroom without assistance. We had a massive accident which required my husband to mop the bathroom. I shelved my plans for one last run during Munch’s class before it officially got too dark to run by the lake. I helped console Skeeter, and we were able to get her comforted and fed. I got Munch to dance class, and then I headed back home for dinner. I just finished supper in time to run back downtown to pick Munch up from her dance class. We ended the night in sync with each other. My husband got Skeeter to bed, and I got Munch showered and to bed. Our rhythm ended up in sync again. Hoping next Tuesday is not as hectic.
I loved taking that hour to myself to practice my self-care and run through our beautiful downtown. I was able to just be. Running gives me that level of euphoria that dance did. I can just lose myself in the rhythm of my breathing like I used to do when I would lose myself in the music of ballet and pointe class. I will miss that run and my “me” time although the dance studio woos me with its inviting atmosphere and the amazing teachers who teach these amazing students who are so incredibly gifted. I have had my eye on some tap shoes at the studio. Maybe now that I have given up my evening run, it is time to buy those shoes. I can use Munch’s dance class as an opportunity for me to lose myself in the music and rhythm of flap, toe, heel, heel. Shuffle, hop, step. Time step, time step, time step. Runs off stage, waving.