Tiny Dancer

Today was Olive's first ever dance class. The child has been walking since she was 9 1/2 months old, and she's been dancing just about as long, so it was only a matter of time. She's grown up watching Peach's classes, so the whole concept is pretty familiar to her, but I was still a bit nervous about how she would react when she actually had to walk the walk. She left me at the door to the studio and never looked back. And she never quit smiling the whole time. The teacher even commented on what a happy dancer she is. And considering that the class was full of two year olds, they all did remarkably well, and not one tear was shed. When they came out, we all clapped for them, and Peach yelled, "Olive! I'm so proud of you!" Okay, maybe a few tears were shed ...

Also, I want to say thanks for all of the support and concern regarding Thursday's events. We've put some extra measures in place to hopefully prevent or at least make it harder for any other crackheads who decide to invade "my hairspace" (big props if you can ID that quote), and I think my anger is now just at simmer. I didn't sleep at all Thursday night, bolting upright at every little noise and replaying every scenario I could think of as to how this happened or how I could have prevented it, and I just ended up exhausted on Friday. Later that afternoon, Olive and I took a power nap together, the kind where you wake up and your head is totally sweaty, and I actually slept fairly well that night. I pray that this was our one and only brush with crime and that the crackheads either get a real life or bleed to death the next time they try to kick in my back door.