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The Art of Making Dances

I always imagined that any baby of mine would be a dancer - of some sort.  When the Bug was a newborn, my husband and I each carried and bobbed the Bug to music in the living room.  When he was a few months old, I put Bug into a baby carrier and tried to re-enact the Waltz of the Flowers.  As he grew older and developed more gross motor skills, I tried again and again to tap into his little dancing spirit.  

All of this was to no avail.  I finally resigned myself to the possibility that the Bug was not motivated to move to music.  No big deal.  He does not need to love dancing.  Momma Lesson learned.

Then, one day last week, he started dancing, and his moves are awesome.  His path is best described as meandering.  When he travels, he travels fast.  When he is in one place, his feet move quickly forward and back and a little to the side.  During one of his recent dances, those feet were in a frenzy and ended up stepping over each other in some sort of stationary grapevine, resulting in his landing on the floor, legs crossed, and looking up with a big smile.  

Doris Humphrey believed that all dances are too long, and I agreed with her until last week.  The Bug's dances will never be long enough.

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