1 Mother 2 Another

One of the things I teach is Pilates, an
exercise form that I teach one-on-one. I train primarily dancers
looking to advance in their career, or pre-professional dancers
trying to get ready for the professional world. Maddie and Cora
know some of these dancers, as I take the girls to see the ballet
shows when I can – partly just to check up on my dancers and
see how they’re progressing.


Sometimes, too, I have to take one or both of the girls with me
while I teach. It’s not ideal, especially with Cora; both
girls are inquisitive and want nothing more than to play around on
the expensive and dangerous equipment while I devote my full
concentration to my client. But sometimes childcare just
doesn’t work out perfectly and so they come along.

This happened last Thursday: my mom agreed
to watch Cora, but was going to have to pick her up at the studio
right as I started teaching, take Cora with her to pick up Maddie
from school, then bring both girls back to the studio so she could
go on to her own teaching schedule. So Cora was on hand to watch
the beginning and the end of my session with Claire, a promising
teen who looks to have a great career in ballet.


Cora sat or stood next to me the whole time I was teaching,
watching Claire intently, appearing to memorize everything going
on. Which apparently she did, since there was a quiz later that
night.


Lying in bed snuggling with me, Cora said, “Mommy, what did
you do with Claire?” “I did Pilates with her,
honey.”


Cora looked at me disdainfully and said, “I KNOW that. But
what EXACTLY did you do with her?”


Taken aback, and unsure what Cora was asking for – specific
exercises? Number of repetitions? – I said, “Well, we
worked on strengthening her legs, and stomach, and we spent some
time working on her turns.”


Cora stroked her chin (not kidding) and said, “I didn’t
see that part. I don’t remember the turns.”


“Well,” I said a tad defensively, “You
weren’t there the whole time. But we did work on her
turns.”


“I see,” Cora said. “And how many turns can she
do?” “She can do two at a time, sometimes three,”
I replied.


“Hmmmm,” Cora said, thinking. “I can do four.
Maybe I should give her some spinning lessons. I know!” she
said, sitting up in bed and clapping her hands. “Here’s
what we’ll do. Next time you teach her, I will put on my
ballet clothes, come with you, show her I can do four spins, and
give her a lesson too. I’ll teach her how to do more spins.
She needs to do more.”


Satisfied, she turned over and went to sleep.


The next morning, right after breakfast Cora immediately put on her
leotard and tights and ballet shoes and proceeded to show me her
four spins, counting to four as she went around and then freezing
like freeze tag as soon as she’d said “four!”


I videotaped it just to make sure.


So Claire, look out. You’ll clearly have two teachers next
time instead of one.


At no extra charge, of course.