My kiddos are (almost) 3, 7, and (almost) 11.
I don't do "fall back plans" at this age. Sorry. If they tell me they want to be a T-Rex when they grow up right now, I will be the first to cheer on their roars and show them how to shove their arms in their sleeves to shorten them. Too much of our lives are spent being practical; I'm going to let them dream as long as possible.
So when Ruby told me at 4 that she wanted to be a "famous princess ballerina" when she grew up, I encouraged her every step of the way.
This year was her 2nd year of ballet classes. She has loved them... until the last couple of months. Not only does she no longer want to be a famous princess ballerina, she doesn't even want to take ballet class next year.
Don't get me wrong, I am NOT one of those moms living through her daughter. Personally, I could not care less about ballet, but SHE loved it. LOVED it!
And then I looked at these uploaded photos of the performance and she's not even smiling. She is done. And it is SO hard to let her be done with her first love, with her only dose of "girly" in a very "boy-y" kind of house.
I have no idea what this spunky girl will choose to do next. I have a feeling that she's going to trade in her ballet shoes for soccer cleats (like her big brother). You better believe, though, if she ever tells me that she's going to be a famous soccer player, I will be the first to cheer her on!
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