The other day I told M that Emito could be a ballet dancer. I expected a playful protest ala "What? Not my son the future all-star bla bla bla," but instead he said, "You know, I was thinking the same thing myself!"
For months we've noticed that Em really likes to explore what his body can do. He spins. He runs in place. He does downward-facing-dog, just for the heck of it. He stretches this way and that. And he climbs. Climbs and climbs. But this past week he's added a new move to his repertoire - walking on tippy toes. He does it all the time.
Of course, who knows what that really means. Will he end up at the ABT? Oh, probably not. But I am signing him up for a music/movement class so he can explore his inner Baryshnikov. Plus, it'll be motivation for me to fight my inner slug and get out of the house. Not something that I've been very good at lately.
One of my goals as a mom is to be active with my kid. To go swimming. Canoeing. Skiing. To kick around a soccer ball and to shoot hoops. I've been anything but active for the past five years, though, and when you're that long out of it, it's hard to get back into it. Of course, we don't need to do adventures in x-treme sporting just yet. But right now, I have trouble finding the inclination to just get us out for walk.
Several times over the past year, I was this close to signing us up for swimming lessons. But I never followed through, because I couldn't get up the nerve to trot out my flabby, oh-so-white self in a bathing suit. I have one more chance to do it before the summer comes. I hope I don't chicken out this time.
In the meantime, I'll be bringing my tiny dancer to movement class. It's a parent-child thing, so at least I'll be doing something. Hopefully it'll be the break-out from this sedentary rut that I so desperately need.