Ok so here’s my newest dilemma. So some of you may know, my oldest son Jackson takes ballroom. I know, stinkin cute right? And he started this of his own accord. He took a free lesson once and was hooked. Oddly enough, we’ve had a hard time finding him a partner. (I know, right? I got a BOY who wants to dance and no partner??) So his coach Mr. V asked if I would step in and rehearse with him. Well of course I said no, because what dancer mother would ever want to dance with her 11 year old son? Kidding, my heart burst at the thought! AND my son was totally into it and we all know I only have about another 6 months until he wants nothing to do with me. So we began to practice together about 5 weeks ago. Then Mr. V tells me he wants Jackson to compete in his first competition thats happening tomorrow. “Great!” I say, who will we get to partner with him? “Oh you’ll do it” he says. Wait whuuuut? So now we are registered as a Pro/Am couple. Meaning I’M THE PRO! Yes yes, I know, I’m a professional dancer. BUT I DON’T DO BALLROOM! That’s a bit like driving a car. Just because you can drive an automatic doesn’t mean you can drive a stick shift. Yes, I’ll eventually get it, but it’s going to be clunky and messy for a while. Did I mention the competition is tomorrow?? I’ve never competed in my LIFE. I was a ballerina, not a competition dancer! I’m so out of my element I can’t even tell you. I HAD TO GET A SPRAY TAN YESTERDAY, because apparently you can’t be butt white and compete in ballroom. No idea what that has to do with my dancing. Hopefully they’ll be so mesmerized by my Oompa Loompa glow that they won’t notice my lack of “heel lead”. And let’s talk about that. What self respecting ballerina has ever led with her heel?? None I tell ya! More than anything I just don’t want to fuck it up for Jackson! He’s the one being judged, not me, but can you imagine if I SCREW UP and cost him a medal? I screwed up 3 times in yesterdays rehearsal. I’ve never been so nervous to dance in my life. Thankfully I had some ballroom friends who loaned me some costumes and are walking me through the ropes but OY!!! Where do we enter? How do we find a spot on the floor? Wait, I won’t know what music they’re going to play till I get out there? What if I run into someone on the floor? Did I mention Jackson is 4 feet tall, and I’m 5’10” in my heels? WHAT DID I GET MYSELF INTO?
But yes, there is the other side too. The ‘OMG I get to be my sons first dance partner!’ And yes, my heart is full when he looks at me while we’re dancing and smiles his adorable smile. So as long as I don’t screw it up, I will cherish this memory forever. Who says there’s no more firsts? Tomorrow, at 43, I will be doing my first dance competition ever. Wish me luck!