So, Kami's post about hockey got me thinking.
We talk a lot about what we're not willing to have the boys do. I'm not a fan of hockey (for so many reasons). Hubs likes it, but never played when growing up (at least I don't think so). He played football and volleyball. We're not willing to spend every night driving our children around to various activities, eating in the car, rushing through homework, not getting enough sleep, etc.
We don't often talk about what we are willing to do though. Hmmm.
Of course, they are only 4 and 2. I think we have a bit of time before they start getting passionate about their extra-curricular activities.
Last summer we had our oldest in soccer. So far he doesn't really seem to be into sports, that one. His little brother was out kicking the ball around more than he was.
This year we have him in Ukrainian dancing. Five months of dancing to date and he's loving it. He loves his instructors. I went to parent viewing night and watched him skip, kick, point his toes, twirl the girls. His first performance is this Saturday at the annual fundraising dinner. His first Zabava. Little kids dancing, great food, a dance. Ah, the memories.
Hubs & I danced. We met through dancing. I'm sure I have pictures somewhere of the two of us in our full get-ups. The shirts that were made for us so lovingly by friends and family. The ridiculously tight headpiece of flowers and ribbons (always under the threat that if it were to fall off, it would be stapled onto my head). The red boots that set you back at least $200 per pair so you better take good care of them!
We spent hours in the studio. Hours in the board room. Hours on the tour bus. Hours working on costumes and props. Hours working on fundraisers, bingos, casinos, mail-outs. Blood, sweat and tears were poured into that ensemble.
Hours building memories. Hours building relationships. Hours building lifelong friendships. Bonds were created that can't be explained. When you spend over 20 hours a week with someone that's not part of your school or employ, working towards a common goal, and then 3 weeks with them on the road, sharing experiences, triumphs and heartache, a special relationship develops. Even now we laugh, cry, shake our heads at the antics, the emotions, the memories.
When I take my son to the studio, I show him the ensemble pictures on the wall. I point out myself, Hubs, his aunt and uncles, friends he knows. I choke up when I think about what that group of people meant and still means to me. The education I received.
I want that for them. Not necessarily the dancing, but the feeling, the passion, the friendships, the memories.
I am willing to help them achieve that.