When asked, I have always said I am a dance mum. I did ballet growing up, loved it, and my two daughters have done ballet since they were 2 years old. They added jazz a few years back. They do 6 classes between them a week, exams, and I buy them endless pairs of ballet shoes, leotards, tights and whatever else they need. I tell people I am a dance mum, I thought I was a dance mum. I have kids that dance.
Then, I went to our first eisteddfod.
For those not in the know, an eisteddfod is dancers from various schools who come together and compete. They compete individually, they compete in groups.
For some reason, my kids decided to sleep in that day. I had to wake them at 7am. I had no time to shower or get ready. I got my daughter ready – costume, makeup, hair pulled into a slick bun. Piled into the car and left the rest of the kids with my husband while I dashed backstage.
At first glance I thought I was in the wrong place. Yes, there were kids there. But there were also mothers – and they looked better than their kids. High heels, full heads of makeup, and more Botox than the local beauty salon.
I slunk downstairs and joined hubby with the other kids in the audience. A lady came on stage.
“Thank you all for being here, I realise it’s early – but these are the sacrifices we make”
It was 830am on MOTHER’S DAY. As I looked at the woman to my right about to say “you would think they’d have picked one of the other 364 days this year” I saw her nodding in agreement, shut my mouth and sank further down.
My daughters group danced beautifully. I went backstage and fought through the throng to find her. I heard a voice as I did.
“Ginnnnyyyy” it trilled, “was waxed especially for today” I turned to get a look and high five Ginny for finding time to wax with kids, only I had to lower my gaze, because Ginny was about 9 years old.
The more I studied the mothers there, the more I realised something. The less “dance mum” they were, the better their kids danced. The mum in her jeans and ugh boots? Her son could dance! The mum who had a Bonds hoodie on? Daughter was the star of the day.
Which reassured me. If my theory is correct, I’ve bred the next Margot Fonteyn.