Once Upon A Dream

My daughter is a ballet dancer ... Tights, leotards and ballet slippers wether they be hers or mine have been a part of our world for many years. 

Last week was all about the show ... Rehearsal after rehearsal, driving little girls from one side of Auckland to another, late night after late night and then the show ... 

Mr B worked back stage doing stage props and I did the some of the girls hair and make up before the show (the show nights I wasn't back stage or watching you'd find me and my ballet Mum friends down at the local having wine ... wine and friends get you through show week)

Apparently it would seem this also makes me a ballet Mum.

My girl loves to dance, and as a dancer myself, I derive such joy in watching her do something she adores. I also love the fact she enjoys sharing her passion with others when she is on stage. There's a glow, a shimmery lightness, from her when she's in her element. 

Disclaimer: I'm not THAT kind of dance Mum, the scary kind that you see on reality television. I am a Mum whose daughter takes ballet at an amazing local studio which satisfies my daughter's passion for dance and my need for sanity and (an attempt at) a balanced life.