Sylvan sat eating peas that he mixed with raspberries and yogurt this evening. Mmmmm. And he asked for more, pink yogurt in his hair and up to his elbows. As I washed dishes, he ate and jabbered. Then, he said, “Mommy. Dance.” I turned to him, and he flashed his dimples, “Mommy dance.” So I complied, spinning and undulating my spine. Sylvan wasn’t really commanding a performance, though. He’d already seen one today, so I think he was remembering: “Mommy dance,” rather than “Mommy, dance.”
Courtney (“Cointy”) brought Sylvan to my Dance Africa performance this afternoon. Our usual audience is elementary through high schoolers. This particular show was set up for ShelterCare, a local organization that provides mental health programs, emergency shelter for the homeless, and training programs for people with brain injuries. Since we had space and it was pretty informal, I invited some toddler friends. Nora brought her Dad, Mark, and Annalena came with her Mom, Shelly. All three toddlers were remarkably well-behaved through the entire 45-minute show. Sylvan sat and crunched graham crackers, lighting up whenever he realized it was Mommy on the stage. Nora clapped excitedly and wiggled through the show, and Annalena stood a few feet from Mom, inching toward the stage, just waiting to fill in if anyone injured an ankle. Their responses encouraged me to consider taking Sylvan to see more live music and dance.
Sylvan just wanted to talk about his day over dinner. I hope he knew from my kitchen antics that I understood.