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Cordy, St. Patrick's Day 2005

I love St. Patrick's Day. I've already got my round loaf of Irish soda bread ready to eat, along with the corned beef and cabbage. Yum - comfort food at its best.

The girls each have their St. Patrick's Day outfits picked out and ready to go, too. Mira will be wearing the dress that I sewed for Cordy three years ago. I'd like to make a dress for Cordy this year, but time is preventing that, so she'll have to settle for an Irish-themed t-shirt instead. Like every other year, I'll pack the girls into the car early on Monday and we'll stake out a good spot to watch the annual parade downtown. I've always loved the parade - the bagpipe and drum bands, the Irish wolfhounds strutting by, and the Irish dancers of all ages marching in their beautiful dance outfits.

Years ago, I was an Irish dancer. I had been interested in it for years, spurred on by watching Riverdance, but it wasn't until my first year of graduate school that I got the nerve to sign up. Due to my class schedule, I couldn't be in with the adult dancers, so I was put in the teen group. At 22 years old, I was a little older (and in worse shape) than my classmates, but I still really enjoyed the classes each week. When I moved, I switched dance schools and continued dancing, this time with an adult group. But after two sprained ankles (not caused by dancing), I quit attending classes and haven't been back in years.

Watching those dancers in the parade, however, reminds me of how much I love Irish dance. But with kids and multiple other commitments now, finding the time isn't as easy as it used to be. I hope that someday I'll find the time to dance again, but at the moment it isn't very likely.

I'll admit that I've been trying to influence my daughters to take an interest in this beautiful dance style. I occasionally put on Lord of the Dance and tell Cordy, "Look at all the pretty dancers! Doesn't that look like fun?" Cordy has caught me more than once doing a few steps in the kitchen while waiting on the microwave, leading me to explain the dance to her and encouraging her to copy me. I've even remarked to my husband, "Cordy would be perfect for Irish dance - she already has ringlet curls, so she wouldn't have to sleep with curlers in her hair like the other girls!"

Am I forcing it on her? Maybe a little. I would love to see Cordy or Mira learn Irish dance. There are even parent-child competitions if I were to ever dance again. But I also don't want to turn into some Irish dance version of a pageant mom, forcing her child to live out her own dream. They have the right to choose what activities they want to participate in, and I won't push it if they're not interested in dance. Still, I quietly cross my fingers and hope that they'll find some small fascination with the art of dance and someday march in the parade in their beautifully embroidered dance dresses. And if they're not interested, I'll be a little disappointed, but I'm sure they'll find activities that are just as much fun and they'll have my full support.

In the meantime, I'll pass Cordy another slice of soda bread as we cheer on the leprechaun dancing down the parade route, waving to everyone and asking us to "get your Irish on!"