i love ice cream.

I love to dance. I love to perform, and dress up, and be the center of attention, and everything else that comes with dance. I really just love that I finally feel like I express myself adequately, even if it's just when dancing. But teaching dance? Teaching dance to kids??? That is a completely different story.

"Sure, teaching a bunch of 5-7 year old kids would be fun! I'd love to, Heather!" or something along those lines, I'm pretty sure. I had no idea what I was getting myself into last September, and now, three 12-week courses later.... I have not only 5-7 year old kids, but 7-10 year old kids, too. Oh, and did I forget to mention teaching at a middle school after school's out every week? Yeah. It may all be just twice a week, but those two days add a whole bucket full of stress. Pure, hateful, ice cream craving stress (ice cream is part of my daily diet).

As an 18 year-old, I love thinking about the future. I have so many dreams and goals for the future, and one of them is to teach kids how to dance. It looks fun, ya know? I mean, come on! My coaches have done SO much for me, and for so many of my friends. This Lara is a different person than the one that walked into the studio three and a half years ago! Wouldn't it be great to pass it on? Or pay it forward? That's what I keep telling myself. But after this year of teaching little kids... well, maybe I'll.... well, maybe I'll just.... well.... ummm..... maybe we'll just see how college goes first. Yeah, that's a thought.

...

What am I kidding? Of course I'm going to teach. As much as I sometimes dread walking into that studio, I usually, but not always (my ever-helpful TA can attest to that), walk away feeling great. My kids, as I have come to call them, are adorable, full of energy and personality, and love to dance. I love them. All of them. Who cares if they have no idea how to stop talking for more than three seconds?