Evie can do all the dance moves, but refuses to participate in her class. She sits at the side in her adorable dance outfit, and watches the class intently. She shows me at home if I ask her to do it, but I can't get her to admit that she can dance or that she could do the same "toe-heel" move at the dance studio. She also claims that she is scared of her teacher. Craziness. We're talking about the same teacher who held Evie through the class when Evie was crying. I think I've even posted a picture of it. We've asked her teacher to babysit this week so that perhaps Evie will get more comfortable.
Chuck took her to class this weekend and made Evie introduce herself to each little girl in the class. (He thinks her shyness is all about not knowing the other girls). So after he did that, which would make me feel more awkward if I was Evie, he took a picture of the girls lined up in class and wrote down their names so we could learn who is in the class. Can you say, "stalker?" Can you say, "creepy dad?" Unfortunately, I can't say that to Chuck because he honestly believes this will help Evie get comfortable with dance. And maybe he's right. He's such a sweetheart. Chuck also went to the store and picked up a copy of the song Evie's class is dancing to so we can practice at home. What a good dad.
On another note, we still have not located the original dance outfit that Evie hid or "lost" the week after her first class. I have no idea where it could be. At this point, I'm betting it somehow made it into the trash.
On yet another note, my husband has this weird compulsion to decorate our house and more specifically, hang window treatments. He has visited fabric stores, decorating stores, etc. He brought home fabric samples two weeks ago and picked out what he wanted for our dining room windows. He asked me to flip through hundreds of fabric samples to see if there was anything I liked. I looked at him, when he pulled out the samples (with the ones he liked all marked and ready to hold up in the dining room to check the color), and I said, "Seriously, where do you hide your vagina?" I swear he is more a chick about this stuff than I ever could be. So, he finally settled on a drape from Target, but he had to drive to four different Targets to get enough panels to dress all the windows. The man is insane, but our window dressings look good, so I guess I shouldn't complain.