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Everything I need to know about raising a boy, I learned in ballet class



Davin, our avid little hoopster, looks to make anything into a basketball hoop. When we play with play dough, he asks that Chris or I make a little basketball hoop and basketballs out of the dough so that he can make baskets (he also asks for soccer goals and balls, football uprights and balls, and golf balls and club). If his basketball hoop is not around but he has a ball, Davin has found that Mom makes an excellent basketball hoop. I round my arms in front of me, making a perfect first position (one of the positions of the arms for all of you non-ballet dancers). Like my old ballet teacher, Davin will check my form and correct my position if he thinks it isn't correct. He then starts to shoot away. Unlike his basketball hoop at home, his "portable" hoop chimes with praise at each shot, will help him retrieve balls, and (at least at the moment) has a large baby bump which effectively redirects the ball back to him after his shot. Someday, when he is a famous baller, I'm sure I'll look back fondly on these moments.

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