To Perform or not to Perform, that is the question...

As regular readers of my blog will know, I turned 50 last October, and as a result of that I have tried to challenge myself regularly, and to say yes to everything, within reason*.

One of the things I said yes to last year was Tap Dancing, which I thoroughly enjoyed, so much so, that I now regularly go to an adult class.

I love my class, we tap, we chat, we tap....perfect. And it's a good work out.

Sadly, each year, the dance school that I attend does a show.

Now, as a parent of a dancer, I completely understand why this has to happen, as there is nothing like the feeling you get when you see your little person performing on stage...brilliantly, always, obvs... little tear of pride, rapturous applaud etc, etc...lovely. And there are lots of kids at this dance school.

However, as a grown adult who is actually quite introverted, (people never believe me about this but that's a whole other blog....) this is my idea of hell. Pure and simple.
Can you tell what we were tapping to Wham 'Wake me up before you GoGo?' Don't be fooled by the smile, I'm terrified.

I know the routine we are going to do, back to front, upside down and sideways, but put me on stage and you will be lucky if I will remember what a shuffle ball change is.

Tapping away in the dance studio I can use my arms, smile and tap my feet. All at the same time. I know, right?

But on stage....naaaaaah. My lips get stuck to my teeth and I sweat, alot, so I have this weird grimacy sweaty look about me whilst my feet and arms are doing whatever they please.

Anyway, you get the idea.

Last Sunday, I performed on stage, twice, once for the matinee and once for the evening performance, which my family came to.

I think it went as well as I could have hoped considering all of the above. My families review went as follows:

Hubs 'You were great, loved it.' - This is why I married him.
Eldest child ' It was better than last time and your arms were sometimes in the right place.' - Gah
Youngest dancer child 'You were great Mummy, you did really well.' - Bless her.
This was followed with:

Hubs ' Really liked the break dancing, they were brillant.'
Eldest ' I really liked the break dancing, they were great.'
Youngest 'I liked the girls on pointe they were AMAZING.'

Note to self,  must take up break dancing, because me being on pointe that would be ridiculous!!!

Now it is over, I am glad I did it, I have stopped shaking, and surely all that adrenalin will somehow mean I have become super lithe and fit in the process, and it's only once a year....

* when asking my male friend, what to get my husband for his birthday, he said 'electric sex pants' to which, I firmly replied no....

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