I think all parents have been there. Watching our little ones grow so quickly, feeling like the sand in the hour glass is slipping away faster and faster. I can't remember how many times I have said to my husband " I love this age! I wish she could stay like this forever!"
Now in reality I don't truly wish my children would remain frozen in a moment in time. Every stage has had its ups and downs, moments that I have cherished (and hopefully remembered captured on film) and moments I would like to erase from my memory (oh those long months of sleep deprivation!).
But recently I have come to a moment I am very much grieving and wishing for just one more month, one more week, one more day! My "baby," Malia (who is 16 months), has decided she is too big to do Salsa Babies with mommy. Now big is an exaggeration as Malia is very petite, about the size of most average 9-10 month olds, I am strong enough to dance with her for much longer. But developmentally Malia has taken a big step towards her independence as a toddler and decided she is not a "baby" and therefore will not tolerate, despite my best efforts, being worn in her Cosy Baby Happy Mommy wrap for the duration of a Salsa Babies class.
Now this isn't the first time I have experienced this. My oldest daughter, Bria, decided at about 18 months of age that she would much rather dance from the sidelines. But when Bria did not want to dance any longer Salsa Tots had just come out and I was excited to launch this new program with my tiny assistant, and also knew I was actively trying to conceive my next Salsa Baby. Within 2 months I had a tiny human being in my belly and as I joked with my moms, other then a wrap, the uterus was the BEST baby carrier on the market.
I also developed Salsa Bellies (our prenatal latin dance program) during my second pregnancy and enjoyed knowing the baby in my belly was learning and benefiting from the music and movement she experienced in-utero almost daily. My OB often joked that my baby would come out dancing and her first words would be "Cha cha cha!" All of these things combined to make the transition much easier. But this time is different. Malia will be our last baby. I know other than when one of my twin moms honors me with the gift of wearing one of her babies, I will be dancing without a partner.
Dancing with my girls has been some of my happiest moments with them. I have often come to tears thinking about the beauty of sharing dance and music with my baby. I look around my classes and see babies of all ages and stages, snuggled into their mom, kicking their feet to the beat, laughing and singing along to the music, or sweetly sleeping on their mother's breasts, lulled to sleep my the rhythmic swaying of hips and warmth and security of a mother's embrace. What a gift to give our children. What a gift to receive as mothers!
As someone who has danced through life, it is a passion that drives my soul. Dance is my safe place, a place I can always come back to when the weight of the world seems insurmountable. I can let all thoughts slip away, and just allow my body to instinctually move and breath with the music. To me, dance is the expression of the joy in my heart and I feel overwhelmingly blessed to have shared this with my girls.
I can't help but wish I could have just a few more classes to snuggle my little one and express my love for her through movement. I will openly admit to shedding more then a few tears over Malia's graduation from babies to tots. It is not just the end of our Salsa Babies time, but it is an end to the "baby" chapter in my life. It was during this time that I truly found myself and became confident and determined within myself. I have often thought, if I can be a mom I can be ANYTHING!
I sooth my sorrows in the knowledge that the end of this chapter marks the beginning of a new chapter, that I am sure will be filled with as much wonder and joy. I am thrilled to watch Malia bounce, stomp, twirl, and clap as she dances on her own two feet, and know she is experiencing the same elation I feel as I dance next to her. I am selfishly ecstatic in the moments Malia reaches her little arms up to me to communicate her desire for me to scoop her in my arms and sweep across the dance floor, even if these moment are only mere minutes in length. I am proud of my dedication to nurture not only her love of dance, but her complete being through the emotional bonding our months of dancing heart to heart created. And I am rewarded each class I teach in the knowledge I have been able to share this gift with other moms and babies.
So thank you to all the moms and babies over the past 3 years who have shared these wonderful, blissful moments with me and my girls. And thank you for letting me share the awesome gift of dance. I am truly grateful and inspired.
