No one told me.

I knew that when I gave birth to a little girl, it was just the beginning of life filled with all things girly: tea parties, lace, dolls, dress-up, Barbies and ballet.  And I anxiously anticipated the pink leotards, the tulle skirts, and a little ballerina of my own to watch grow.

 

But no one told me that the evening of her first dance recital I would find my heart stuck in my throat, watching my daughter, as we waited backstage for the event to begin.

No one told me how she would look so elegantly beautiful, and for a moment I'd catch a glimpse of the woman she would someday become.

No one told me that she'd suddenly get nervous, and my confident, outgoing girl would suddenly be clinging to my leg, on the verge of tears, and unsure of herself.

No one told me how I'd simultaneously want to encourage her to face her fears, meet this challenge, while at the same time wanting to wrap her up in a hug and keep her safe from all the scary and intimidating situations in life.

No one told me that I'd burst with pride watching her blink back tears and march herself to the stage, ready to perform. No one told me that watching your kids do something you cold never do yourself is one of the most amazing parts of parenthood.

No one warned me that I'd be both giggling and crying from my seat in the auditorium..and how simply adorable it is to watch eight little ballerinas twirl, spin, leap (and sometimes stumble) into one another on stage.

No one told me that with one performance under her belt, my baby would feel the excitement of performing, that the nerves would melt away, and that she's be bursting with anticipation to perform her next number.

No one told me that even though she totally inherited her mama's clumsiness and tripping tendency, my little girl would be able to go up on a stage and tap like no one's business:

No one told me how many emotions a simple local dance recital could stir within me. In the span of about an hour, I'd felt proud, anxious, happy, grateful, nervous, relieved, amazed....and most of all, blessed.

No one told me that my daughter would feel all those things, too.

And in the end, I suppose it's good that no one told me all these things.  Because I have this wonderful little girl to show me.

I love you, tiny dancer!