Crabbed age and youth

The tragedy about youth is, you only get one shot at it. And if you were like me and wide-eyed to the world around you but oblivious to what lay beyond its (in my case, barbed-wired) borders, then chances are you have regrets.
For me, that regret is brought home every time I go to the ballet. As it was last night during and after the truly exquisite performance of The Taming of The Shrew.
When I was a little boy mum took me to art classes in the nearby village. I was seven and I think it was on a Saturday morning at the Parkerville Hall. My friend Melissa and her little sister went to ballet class in Mundaring. My Aunts had also done ballet in Mundaring in their time and I kind of grew up hearing a lot about it. I was fascinated with it. All I really knew was, boys didn't do ballet. And I spent most of my childhood drawing little pictures and sketches and so I was content to go to my art classes.
But there was always this nagging feeling that ballet was something for me.
I think I mentioned it to my Mum when I was about 12 or so that I would like to try ballet. She informed me I had left my run too late. I should have started when I was 5. Or 8 at the latest.
She was right, for the most part. Most dancers do start that early. God how I wish I'd pushed the point though. But then I was one of those kids how never stuck at much so it was probably, reasonably legitimately, dismissed as a flight of fancy,
I'm 28. I didn't truly discover ballet until I was in my early 20s.
I made the wrong decision. I should have pressed the point. I should have danced.
It is so beautiful. So graceful, so strong, so exquisite. Darlings, I love it. And I love dancers. And, frankly, who wouldn't dance 14 hours a day for 14 years to get an arse and legs like these...

But I left my run a little too late.
So I guess there are a few lessons to take away from this. Firstly, let your children experience everything you can - you might just let them catch their passion in time to do something about. Secondly, life is full of missed opportunities, so make the most of the ones you take.
And thirdly, I would totally be one of those pushy stage mums you see in films like Centre Stage. You know the one who's daughter drops out of ballet school before the big final performance because she never really wanted to dance, it was her mum's dream all along... not hers?
Yeah. That's me.