The Pout 10:32 AM

The pout begins as we are approaching the halfway point to ballet. Lower lip out, my daughter is upset that I have reminded her about the rules of the sidewalk – merge right when someone approaches and do not ask them to walk between two people or push them off into the grass. These are rules she knows; they are boundaries she is testing.

We near ballet. I know that this attitude can not continue. With this attitude she is not focused. She is busy feeling raw and emotional about something that is in the past.

I stop walking in the parking lot, as I always do, and watch as she continues to the high metal stairs.

She is silent. She has not spoken a word.

“I love you sweetie. I love you too, Mamma.”

I am talking to myself as if we are calling to one another as we do when she is cheerful and ready to focus.

“Have a good class. I will.”

She nears the top of the stairs and is ready to open the door. She has not yet said a word.

“Do your best. I will.”

Friends approach the bottom of the stairs preparing to climb. The adult of the pair is chuckling. “She will” she calls to me. Having raised 4 daughters of her own, she knows what is going on.

“See you after class sweetie,” I call to the bun and the ballet bag as they disappear through the door. I then smile and shake my head as our friends climb. “Have a good class.”

I turn to run errands. I hope that she is able to focus and get the job done. I hope that she is able to enjoy the class.