I’m torn in two directions.  My dance needs me.  And the play is in just a few weeks.  But I can’t just hang my family on the coat rack.

Production!  Merely the mention of it brings a smile to my face.  There’s laughter in the air, music blasting.  The hallways are pulsating with activity, paintbrushes strewn about.  There’s just something in the atmosphere that brings us all together.  The unity, the kinship, it’s just amazing.  Of course, there are always the fights over the mp3 players, but we don’t let that get in the way.  It’s… production!

And as dance head, it’s all the more amazing. From meeting with the choreographer, to getting the beats down to a T, it’s just endless!  Not to mention actually teaching the motions to my group.  I never realized how much physical, emotional, mental, and frustrated energy it takes to teach a dance. And my teachers do that every single day.  Never mind the fact that it’s not merely a dance… but many, many lessons!

They’re catching on nicely, though.  Sometimes, they’re just not in the mood.  I mean, I do understand.  They want to peek at the scenery, see how the other song-dance is coming along.  But I usually manage to get them into the gym to have some serious practice.  Other times it’s like pulling teeth.  The ups and downs of life…

Boy, do I know them well.  The ups of being dance head, the downs of managing your house.  It’s not like my family’s gone into hibernation just because I’m dance head.  They very much need to be taken care of.  And the balance is, well, a balancing act.  Think about juggling eggs– raw.  Need I say more?

I’m torn in two directions.  My dance needs me.  And the play is in just a few weeks.  But I can’t just hang my family on the coat rack.  It doesn’t exactly work like that.  Priorities.  I try not to mix them up.  My mother’s definitely moving around more, so there’s less for me to take care of.  My sisters are starting to pitch in also.  I guess they didn’t want to see me collapse from stress.

Stress. My head’s pounding.  I love my job but there’s still so much to do.  The partner- motion still isn’t even and Aviva’s having a hard time getting the beat.  My dance has to be absolutely perfect.  Ayelet laughs at my perfectionism.  What does she know?  She’s in this cutesy song-dance that you have to move your hands maybe once.  But she claims that it’s better that way.  And she says they have an absolute blast.  I can relate to that.  Without any pressure, our group would throw a party every time there’s practice too.  They’re just so much fun!  But Jolly Ranchers and potato chips don’t exactly fit my idea of dance practice, if you get what I mean.  If I do want to treat my girls, I’ll let them leave five minutes early.

The play is actually based on a very interesting story – something that I can relate to. It’s about the glitz and glamour of the world beckoning, and a young teenager battling its forces. Like Uncle Dani. Only Uncle Dani didn’t do such a good job at fighting. I always used to tell him he was a sore loser. He just rolled his eyes. But it’s true.

I flick on the light in the gym, my girls following only a few steps behind me. I take a deep breath. Rehearsals are about to begin.

“First position!” I order. “Aviva, right now!” They all oblige grudgingly. They’ll thank me afterwards, I know it.

The music wafts in gently as I watch my girls dance. My heart swells with pride. To think that I had been ready to give all of this up…

“Dalia, great job. Aviva, you’re doing much better. And Racheli, I just love the way you lift your hands up like that. Are you ready for the next few motions?” My words are greeted with unanimous approval. They all love to dance, I know. They just need the extra oomph.

And for now at least, my world is one twirl of laughter, happiness, and song.