Dancing Queen

Dance in the Kingdom started out great. I felt like we'd found something familiar in a land so foreign. She was happy and therefore, so was I.

We always got to dance about an hour early due to Iqbal/Terry/driving schedule. After a few times I learned to bring activities to fill the time. Before long, the other little ballerina's were joining us.

And then all of the sudden the last few months of dance had me wondering why we were even going. Separation anxiety had set in again mid-March and every Sunday and Tuesday were filled with tears and I don’t want to go’s. It was torture. I would have to go into the studio with her (where parents normally are not allowed) and stay until she was ok. I thought several times about just calling it quits, but felt like she had wanted to sign up, had committed and we needed to help her follow through. Thankfully, by the time the recital came around, she got excited enough about the ‘big show’ to participate. In January I put her in the 5-6 year old class due to some scheduling difficulties, she appeared even more of a peanut than she usually does, but unsurprisingly, she hung just fine with those older girls. A ballet recital in Saudi is different than what we were accustomed too. Aside from the 4, count them 4, 6 hour long rehearsals, than I found asinine, were no costumes. Unless you want to count a sunflower headband as a costume. Lame. We didn’t. And perhaps most different of all was that dad wasn’t allowed. No men. Heaven forbid some male see a scantily clad 4 year old in their leotard. Worse still, we couldn’t even take pictures or video. Same reason, those pictures might make it into the wrong hands. Girls uncovered on social media. It was a bummer, especially since dad had missed the recital the year previous having already left for the Middle East. Saudi custom aside, Tessa did great and was just as fun to watch as she normally is. We were both glad she stuck it out.