Unbroken

I had to text Ari's jazz teacher and apologize for this spandex travesty which Ari insisted on wearing to class.  As I tried to talk her out of it, it didn't help that Ptolemy wandered by and cooed, "Ari looks bootiful!"  I suggested jazz pants and Ari rolled her eyes.  "Jazz pants are so last year, Mom.  Everyone is wearing shorts."  In the back of my mind, I tried to conjure up a list of all the moms I ran into at Pat's Dancewear who asked me what to wear to jazz and who walked out of the store with jazz pants.

It doesn't matter if jazz pants are out or in, what matters to Ari is what's going on in the alternate universe of her mind.  It must be nice to be so confident in your convictions, so emphatically positive that your way is the only way.  It's he!! for a mom who has a child so headstrong, especially when red sparkly spandex recital costumes on a regular Tuesday are involved.  But what can I do, break her spirit?  I know how...of course I do; Ari is my daughter.  But I won't.  I like her just the way she is...unbroken.