on having an important job

I had a whole post written (and by written I mean I had it planned in my head) for today about all my favorite Charleston things and places. This means mostly a post talking about all the food I love to eat here. Fatty status. A Charleston heavy (get it?) post would be rather fitting for today since it is my last Friday in Charleston.

Cue the freaking out face emoji(s).

But then this week happened and Dear Lawd, this week has been so humbling. Wonderful? Bittersweet? With a pinch of sadness? And a spoonful of happiness? I can't even put into words what this week has been like which means I should definitely not try to write a blog about the week since blogs need words.

#oops

You see, I teach (roughly) around 150 kids a week. That's a lot of kids in not a lot of days <<<<my math skills are off the charts amazing. The youngest kids I teach are still wearing diapers or just being potty trained and they go all the way up to the high schooler who are just figuring out how to drive and what it's like to juggle obscene amounts of homework with obscene amounts of rehearsals with obscene amounts of social calendar appointments. 

This week I have had to say goodbye to these 150 kiddos. There's been a lot of See you later! And Of course, come visit me in Texas! And Yes, you can definitely ride in my moving truck and come with me! And even some Thanks for your mom's cell phone #, can't wait to FaceTime you! (side note: since when do four year olds know all about FaceTime?! Feeling so hashtag old these days).

I've been given flowers and the best handmade cards and gifts and other goodies, and it's all been so sweet and completely overwhelming, but the best thing I've been given? 

All the cheek kisses. All the second and third and fourth "last" hugs. The high fives. The We have to take a selfie so I never forget you! The fifth and sixth and seventh "last" hugs. The reassurance that what I've been doing for the past 3.5 years has been something.

Teaching dance is in no way seen as a job of importance and some days (a lot of days recently) it has felt like that. Unimportant. But knowing that I've made a difference, no matter how minuscule, in even one little student's life makes me want to saute and jump for joy. Plies are important, people, okay?

I come home at night and just collapse on the couch. From the couch I can look to my right and see all the pretty flowers perched on the empty table. I can see the stack of cards on the kitchen counter--the cards that I really need to go ahead and pack, but I just want to leave them out a little longer so I can read through them one (or three) more times.

I am so, so excited to begin this new chapter of our lives, but Texas you betta' not mess with ME. I'm leaving behind some precious people. 

Now please, you may go ahead back to your regularly scheduled, non-sappy, and mostly happy Friday activities. 

the pilates teacher

Something absolutely magical happened this past weekend. I'm talking unicorns flying WITH pigs magical. Pot o' gold at the end of the rainbow magical. 

I started my Pilates certification. 
My 13-month, crazy intense, homework all the time, becoming a Pilates beast certification. 

Now to you that probably isn't unicorn and pig magical, but listen here...I've waited about three to four years to get certified and the fact that it is finally happening is kind of surreal. I was in the studio every day from 9 to 6 and then I was at home studying or self-practicing or practicing on my mom and sister from 6:30-midnight every night. 

Pure. Magic.

I've been teaching ballet for 3.5 years now and a weekend in the Pilates world was quite the change. Allow me to explain.

Cue the lights and music, please, mon cheri.

Teaching dance is all about movement. You move as a teacher, you demonstrate as a teacher. Less words, more movement.

Teaching Pilates is all about cueing. Your words demonstrate, your words create imagery, your words create the movement in your students. I have never spent more time obsessing over whether to say, soften your sternum or curl chin to chest or curl coccyx to pubis or create a C curve in your spine. So many words. Words are hard. Me no like words.

When teaching dance to the creative ages (2.5-5) I often find myself saying these totally not crazy things like, Ballerinas are too busy dancing to pick our noses! or Where are your listening ears? or I can't give my glitter pouf to ballerinas who aren't listening.

And now you are all wondering if I had to say that to my fellow classmates while practicing teaching this weekend? Drumroll, please.

Nope, I didn't have to say any of those things once. No unlocking listening ears. No glitter. No one even picked their noses! (that I saw...)

Ballet classes have an order (plies, tendus, dégagés, the fun never ends!).

Pilates classes also have an order, but the class itself needs to flow. The class is a choreographed dance, always moving and never stopping. When I'm teaching ballet and notice everyone is having trouble with beats, I completely change the class. We go to the barre and work our inner thighs. We might stop and talk a lot and then go back to center and practice preparations for beats. And on and on and on. If I notice something is amiss in Pilates, I have to try to seamlessly rearrange the plan while still keeping the flow and ease of the class.

Phew, that was even hard writing that. I'm already scared for one of my future first Pilates clients to come in with something amiss. I'll just pretend we're in ballet and I'll take them to the barre (shoot, maybe I'll just straight up take them to a bar...).

However, while there are many differences between the two, the similarities are striking.
Teaching both for me is getting to share my love. Both dance and Pilates have been completely transformative to the way I treat myself, my body, and most importantly, my mind. When I teach, I feel like I am getting to give a small part of my experience to others in hopes that they too will see a positive change--no matter how big or small.

Okay, now BRB, gotta go get the cueing down for Kegel exercises.
WUT.

jumping over puddles

Olaf sings a song about summer. I should know. I only hear Frozen songs about 5x per hour. Hashtag: workswithkids. And as much as I want to tell the people who sing Let It Go nonstop to actually let it freaking go, Olaf is on to something. 

I finished up the school year/Spamalot shows and had a week before moving into teaching and choreographing for summer camps. All I wanted to do last week was SING! And DANCE! It's summer! I wanted to jump over puddles and give warm hugs, too! The freckles on my face (we're at about 1 million now). The sunburn on my booty (it's a real thing). It's all so wonderful. I've already consumed copious amounts of froyo and it's only mid-June. Actually, I've consumed copious amounts of froyo toppings. We all know the topping to froyo ratio should always be like 5:3. Done. 

So while I was wanting to sing and dance and give warm hugs all last week I was also gallivanting around Disney. According to my mother's time hop app we've been to Disney the first of June for the past 5 years? 6 years? Apparently it's not summer until a Disney trip happens so I'm glad I could keep up with the tradish. 

Thanks, Olaf, for singing a silly song that I can totes relate to. All the 6 year olds have Let It Go, I've got summer. 

Did I mention I met Josh Gad once? Besties. 

It was obviously not summer when we met. 

Happy unofficial summer Monday!

let's get technical

I had this moment yesterday. It happened while I was teaching. The kids were making up a combination based off of these ballet flashcards I had given them. I emphasized wanting them to work together as a unit to create this combination. I sat there dilly dallying waiting for them to finish when I started listening in on them as they worked their magic. 

How many balancés should we do?

Let's just go until we are all together.

Well, I think it would be better to have a set number so then we are dancing in unison.

Great idea!

How should we incorporate the pas de bouree?

Don't forget to use the correct port de bras!

They were being little 8 year old grown-ups. Little grown-up ballerinas who were applying the copious amounts of ballet technique I've tried to cram inside their growing brains for these past 9 months. In that moment my heart swelled a little a lot. 

You see, there are lots of days when I feel like I'm not the best teacher. I worry that I'm not doing a good enough job at sharing the appropriate amount of ballet knowledge with them. There's just so much to teach and how does one even begin to fit it all in?! 

How can I do my students right and teach them all the things they need to know?

But in that moment listening to them apply their newfound knowledge, listening to them remember little tricks of the trade (so to speak) from these past 9 months I realized that something is going right. Maybe they don't always turn out from their hip. Maybe they don't lift through the upper body as they're doing plies, but they're picking up on the true meaning of technique: not how many pirouettes you can squeeze out or if you can kick your leg to your forehead in a grande battement, but how you properly perform each little part of each movement. How your body is in line before you even think about performing a movement. 

And in that moment I thought Man, I love getting to teach these kids. Because they have managed to cram in a whole lotta of teaching me in these 9 months.

Now...go read some blogs that aren't sappy on a Friday and that don't overkill on the ballet talk.
Happy Friday!

on a break.

It's Sunday night as I'm writing this. I got one load of laundry done over the weekend and yet I'm not worried. The apartment smells like a mixture of sunscreen and tacos, heavy on the sunscreen. There are beach towels rolled up in a bag somewhere and bathing suits hung in the bathroom. And the bathing suits were hung in the bathroom with care...

Welcome to my spring break. 

Bold print and large font were necessary because it is spring freaking break! I have counted down the days, minutes, and seconds to this break more than I have ever counted down for any extended break. That, my friends, is a complete lie but let's pretend it's true and move on. 

Emily, what are your plans for the week?

Great question, blog reader #5. Pull up a chair and let's go through them. 

Deep clean the apartment. 

Maybe I'll even have Freddie make the bed again during this cleaning spree. Not. 

Who gets excited about dusting off the top of door frames and throwing out a whole bunch of schtuff?! Me. Me. Me me me. This apartment is about to be so clean we could eat off of the floor. But we will not because we like tables... and living in the 21st century. 

Easter crafting. 

Need I say more? Yes, yes I do need to say more. Easter crafting would not be complete without Easter candy. Need I say more to that? Not at all. 

The beach.

I will be doing the beach thang all while not getting sunburned. One of those statements will happen and the other will not. I'll let you take a guess as to which is which. 

Well this looks like a delightful spot to park my bum. 

Hug/squeeze/love on/cry years of joy with these people.

My mom and my not mom, Robbie, arrive on Tuesday night. Tuesday! So soon! But get here faster, Tuesday!

My BFF/LYLAS/hoe best friend, Caroline, gets in town Friday. Eeee!! Eee!! Eeee!! This picture on the right just happens to have been the last time we saw one another. That's right. At my wedding. Almost 8 months ago. Stupid.

Know that this emoji was invented for the sole purpose to describe my feelings about these spring break visitors. 

Tears of j-o-y, people. Read those dashes as if they were sobs and you've got it down.

Let's get this party started.