Remember those little musical jewelry boxes from childhood? When opened, they exposed a tiny spring-based ballerina figure that would twirl when the bottom crank was wound. They still make them. I got one for my little girl this past Christmas. She squealed with delight when she opened it. She enjoys keeping her trinkets in the different compartments and gazing at the dancer turning round.
Little girl ballerina dreams ---It is so precious to watch the littlest ones look up to the elegant beauties who flutter across the stage. My daughter and I have seen several shows as her older cousin develops more and more into an exquisite dancer. The Nutcracker Suite is performed each year. Cousin continues to gain bigger and better roles with each new season.
The stage darkens. The crowd hushes to a silence. And the music begins. There she is! There she is! On her point shoes this time! Beautiful costume. It sparkles in the spotlight. Hair is perfect - not a wisp out of place. Her face looks flawless, relaxed, innocent. Her hands flow gracefully up, back and down. Up on points and a partner helps turn her round. Long, lovely legs, that many of us are not blessed with. Her torso stretches out and up. Elegantly regal. She is truly a ballerina!
And so today.....we are off to ballet class. We're running late...use the restroom --change your clothes. Tights, leotard, wrap skirt."Mom, help me with my pump, please!"Pull the pack out of the leotard near the upper thigh...
"Here...it'll be okay like this."Hair slicked back and sprayed. Throw the slippers in the bag. We're really late now. "Hurry up, honey!" Grab two bags. Jump in the car.
"Mom - I feel low." No way around it--we're going to be late. Check finger. Back out of driveway. Yep - 52. Here's a juice box. Do we have snacks left in the other bag? Yes. Okay.
"Wait until you feel better, sweetie."
"I know Mom."Get to studio. Feeling better?---a little. Let's go in. Re-check - 78 - good. Get slippers on. Need a snack.
"Mom, I'm late" Doesn't matter. Granola bar. Chomp it down. Brush off crumbs. Teacher just about to close the door --- There. Made it. Whew. Peek in viewing window.......My beautiful ballerina girl. If I look closely, I can actually see her in the spotlight of a darkened stage.
The audience silent in anticipation. Her hair in place. Her hands floating up, back and down. Up on her points. Her costume sparkling. Her face, flawless. Long beautiful lines. Her torso out- stretched. Up. Twirl. Gorgeous.
Then I blink. My heart sinks. Maybe I'm the only one who notices the bulge from her insulin pump just beneath her skirt.