Tutu truths …

Tutu truths …

I loved doing ballet class as a kid. I mean really loved it. I remember my teacher, Mrs. Mooftizadi giving us M&Ms in tiny Ziplock bags when we danced well or just didn’t have tantrums. I made some lifelong buddies there so nowadays I’m hoping to do the same with the moms outside class when I take my girl there. Here are the moms I spot, and by the way I am all of these moms on any given Tuesday so I’m not judging, I’m relating.

Side-stage mom

We all do it. Relive our childhood through our kids. I am trying not to be the mom shouting, “PLIER AND POINT THOSE TOES” from the outside of the class. I’m also trying not to dress in matching ballet gear like my daughter.

My opening line to become her friend: “Wow, your tutu really matches your handbag!”

The uninvolved-let-me-delegate mom

She thinks activities are overrated. Why the morning rush to get them to sports or extracurricular activities when they can barely control their bowel movements? She does have a point there. Will they remember any of this baby yoga, toddler swim class, or contemporary dance for 4 year olds? She is willing, however to send her kids along with someone else. Anyone else.

My opening line: an SMS asking her for tips on how to delegate.

The ball-of-contradictions mom

She hovers outside the door in plain view of the kids inside plus the ticked-off teacher who told all the parents to stay outside. She’ll be What’s Apping her sister. You know, so she still feels like she has a life outside of parenting yet every time her child looks over she’s also engaging with them and making them want to run over and abandon their jetées and arabesques. Probably just so she still feels like she’s a good mom.

My opening line: “Oh, shoot, is that your girl crying?”

The technology-obsessed mom

She will come equipped with two phones, battery charger for these two phones, her tablet for a quick video segment, and her Kindle because she’s also in the middle of a gripping psychological suspense and she’s sure the wife is a sociopath. Call that a ‘gut feeling.’

My opening line: “Sure, I’ll sign your release form but make sure you catch my good side and not my Kate-Middleton Mama-mad frown, m’kay?”

The social butterfly mom

She can’t remember what time class ends and didn’t see her kid do any of the amazing dance moves because she’s been chatting up the dads who were delegated to bring in kids. She’s been standing just a little too close to any remotely hot guys. Married or not, she’s reliving her teenhood, not her childhood.

My opening line: “Hey, did I notice that guy’s lack of wedding band over there, like way over there, no, look there… you want me to break the ice for you?”

So grab that tutu, your attitude, and attend in whatever way you want to attend because twirling is mandatory. So is becoming my best friend.


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