Princess Camp

Princess Camp. C'mon, doesn't the name make you smile just a little? Either genuinely or sardonically?

Today was the last day of Ainslie's week-long Princess Camp at the local dance studio. For an hour each morning this week, ten or so little girls twirled, dressed up, waved their wands, curtsied, made a craft, listened to a story and danced their little princess-loving hearts out.

This was our first drop-off-and-come-back-in-an-hour activity. This was the first time I've signed her up for something and then not been there to see what she was doing, so I only know what Ainslie told me. The first day they all got a princess name (hers was Gabriella, but they seemed to have dropped them after that first day.) They learned to curtsy "at a ball" and that was worth the price--the curtsy is priceless. She already knew the ballet/reverance curtsy, but this was a funny little bend-the-knee-and-bow number that makes me giggle each time she does it. They danced in a circle. They dressed up in costumes. There was a Hannah, a Lily, and a Rachel. That's about all I was told.

On Day 2, I peeked in as I left to make sure Ainslie was ok and not scared or lonely or anything. She was already telling the teacher something very important. She was fine.

On Day 3 when I picked her up, I was told Ainslie was cracking the staff up. That's all I know.

So today, finally, parents were allowed to watch for the last few minutes. Jasmine and Aurora had paid a special visit to dance with the princesses in training. Now, I still have mixed feelings on the whole princess thing, but tears sprang to my eyes watching these little girls absolutely suspending any disbelief over whether these teenage dance students in a prom gown and old recital costume WERE the real Aurora and Jasmine. Ainslie waved her wand, she twirled, she sang along, and when both songs (A Whole New World and Once Upon a Dream, of course)were over she rushed up with the other little girls to hug her heroines.

There was something so raw and poignant about watching her. I wish I had more moments of pure, unbridled in-the-moment-ness like that. Today, that's the lesson I've learned from my child. Let go sometimes. Don't hunt for errors. Take things at face value sometimes. And curtsy.