She is four years old, and her teacher is helping her leap over the alligator pit.
Even then, she had excellent form.
Over the years, she first wore the pink uniform of the youngest dancers (they've since changed that level's color to white, and thank goodness that was after our time, because I cannot even fathom having to keep a three-, four-, and five-year-old's leotard WHITE for an entire school year...)--
--and then graduated to the blue uniform of the beginning ballet student--
--and as of this year, wears the much more sophisticated black uniform of the intermediate ballet student:
Except for during this year's spring recital, when everyone wore white:
The spring ballet recital always conveniently takes place near Syd's birthday and Mother's Day, so it makes for a handy occasion to take some decent photos of the lot of us when our hair is brushed and we're not wearing clothes with paint stains or muddy knees:
Watching the relationship between these two is my absolute favorite thing about parenting sisters. Never remembering a time without the other, they're best friends, near constant companions, and supporting their relationship so that they'll always have each other even when they don't have Matt or me, is one of my most important jobs:
It's a job that comes with some pretty great perks, fortunately, because there's nothing that could ever be better than these two kids:
Even when their father can't manage to get a decent shot of the three of us all looking decent, sigh.