Tiny dancer in my hand

Bode just might hate this when he's older, but it is too cute (to me) not to post.

Last night, while I was putting Gianna to bed, Bode discovered one of her tulle skirts in a chair.  He said, "This  is pretty!" He took it to his bedroom.

While I was reading him a bedtime story, I noticed that he was squirming around on his bed.  He was putting the tutu on!  I ignored him and continued reading.

He went to sleep with the tutu on.  I went into his room around 9:45 PM and pulled the skirt off over his hips.  I thought it might be too itchy or hot to wear sleeping.

This morning, when I went up to his room, he was wearing the tutu again.

"I'm a ballerina!" he announced.  He asked me to put on some "moosic" and  then held his very own impromptu dance recital in the living room.

When Bode was born (via C-section, because he was breech), one of the pediatricians observing in the room told RWF, "This is what the Russian ballet looks for..." nodding at Bode's open  hips and flailing, noodle legs. It is a part of Bode's birth story, a part that I will never forget. 


(It is on my list  to write down Bode's and Gianna's birth stories.)

Maybe a dance class is in Bode's future. Maybe not.  I'll let him decide. 

I am dying to see First Position.  I've watched this trailer a hundred times.

Happy Tuesday.
xo