Yesterday was Sophie’s first ballet class with a new teacher — her grandmother.

The nanny took her, but I snuck out of work early and hid in the hallway of the ballet studio, barely peeking my head above the observation window to catch a glimpse. Despite my attempts, Sophie saw me immediately, smiled and waved from her position at the barre, then immediately put her game face back on. She was not necessarily the model student — stopped at one inopportune moment to do the splits for the rest of her classmates and required a few reminders from her aide (and yes, she has an aide, an older student who redirects her as needed) but for the most part, as my mom called to report this morning, “She rocked it!”

I love the fact that my mom won’t take ‘em when they are little, she leaves that to the other teachers in the studio she’s owned for thirty-plus years, but I worried that Sophie would never climb high enough on the ballet ladder to make it to Ms. Susie’s weekday classes. And that if she ever did, that things wouldn’t go so well.

But from my limited vantage point at the window yesterday, I had to admit that Sophie didn’t look or act much different than the other kids. Her leaps are a little awkward, but she did catch air. Her tights were bugging her, requiring a lot of adjustments. And she did attempt to hug the teacher in the middle of class.

Fair enough: The teacher is her grandmother, after all.

Sophie danced her heart out. She knows her positions, followed directions, pointed her toes, and shimmied — but only when appropriate. (For the most part.) I sighed a happy sigh, standing there.

In a couple of weeks, another ballet school in town — the fancy one run by the local ballet company — is offering a series of adapted ballet classes for kids with Down syndrome. I asked Sophie if she wanted to go; she said yes immediately.

I have mixed feelings. Not long ago, someone on one of the Down syndrome parent groups posted a link to some program offered for kids with Down syndrome — something sports related, maybe, I can’t recall exactly what it was — and someone else replied that we are all always asking for our kids to be included. Why would we ever want to segregate them?

I see the point, and Sophie’s ballet experience is a great example. She’s had the chance to dance on giant stages with dozens of typical kids, kids whose mere presence  has swept her up, pushed her, made her better. Made her stronger, happy, included. But I’m curious about this ballet program for kids with Down syndrome. I admit I’m not sure why. Sophie wants to try it — so that’s enough for me.

Meantime, I can’t wait for next week’s ballet class with Gaga. And I know Sophie can’t, either.