Tonight PJ will go to her first dance class. She will wear a tutu. She will not look like a hoochie. Although I now know that you can buy plenty of dance clothes for toddlers that look hoochie. Or, as my husband said when he saw the gleam in her eyes as she gazed at the bling studded, rainbow tulle, spaghetti strapped
abomination tutu- “Do you want to be a Toddler in a Tiara?”
Since Saturday morning when she found out that her dance class was Tuesday night she has been trying to convince me that it WAS Tuesday night. “I want to go to dance class.” “Dance class isn’t until Tuesday.” “It IS Tuesday.” “Sorry Sweetie it really isn’t.”
She was momentarily distracted from dance class obsession when I was taking down the
world’s largest air-freshener Christmas Tree. “Noooo, don’t take it down.” “I have to take it down, Christmas is over.” “No, it isn’t over. It is still Christmas. IT IS STILL CHRISTMAS.”
I love her optimism, her belief that you can make it so just by saying it, or saying it a little louder. Magical thinking and optimism, sometimes they are one and the same.