Monday, July 25, 2011

Dance Party USA

When days, months, minutes, and motherhood start to get stressful or overwhelming, there are certain things that people to to revamp and refresh.  Maybe a massage?  A glass of wine?  Exercise?  Read a book?  I am a fan of all of these things but sometimes, I prefer to do something a little different and "crazy" to clear my mind. 

Before I continue, I need to define "crazy" in my terms.  I tend to call things, people, and events crazy all of the time.  It is the main adjective I use when describing my family and myself.  We're all fucking crazy.  But I mean this in the best way.  We're obnoxious, loud, outspoken, opinioned people who love a strong cocktail and a great time.  So, if I describe someone (or myself) a crazy bitch, it's a borderline compliment. 

Anyway...I love fun.  I love to sing, celebrate, laugh, do different things, and have a great time.  Motherhood has changed me but not drastically.  During my pregnancy, I was constantly committing myself to remain the fun, outgoing person I am and I feel like I've done a pretty good job at keeping up the role.  Brody has learned to adjust to a life of crazy and has become his own little perfect shade of crazy.  This kid doesn't stop moving and is constantly laughing, getting into trouble, and crawling/running in circles around the house.  Yes, I know that all kids are active but my kid is SUPER active.  Trust me, I've done the research.  This being the case, he thinks it's an insane good time to blast music and have dance parties.  I'm not making this up.  He loves music (especially the liking of my boo Britney Spears, Keisha, some serious 80's jams, and a few hard core rap remixes).  When we get home from work/the babysitters, we usually go buck wild for about a half hour, tearing through toys, jumping around the house, and crawling around the floor. 

Well, the other day he was just not feeling any of his toys.  He threw the fire truck.  Threw the baseball bat.  Threw the books.  Threw EVERYTHING in my house.  So...I sat him down, blasted Britney, and started seriously jumping and dancing around him in circles.  I was singing, swinging my long ponytail in his face, and shaking every part of this "semi back in shape" body.  I'm sure he felt as mesmerized as I did when I was at the actual Britney concert because he didn't make a peep for 30 minutes as he sat, stared, and smiled.  As the cardio continued, I put him on my shoulders so he could join in on the fun.  It was seriously like Christmas for this kid.  He couldn't stop smiling and laughing.  When my husband did the sneak attack in the front door and stood there watching this ridiculous scene for about 5 minutes before I caught him, his exact words were "What's wrong with you?"  I couldn't breathe well enough to respond.

Later that evening, I was sitting outside with a few neighbors, enjoying a nice glass of wine when my next door neighbor asked "Were you working out in your basement earlier?  I heard the techno/dance music blasting."  For a minute I thought, maybe I'll lie to make myself sound a little more normal but decided that honesty was the best way to handle this.  "Oh no, that was just me and Brody having a serious dance party.  He loves Britney and Keisha."

If you don't feel a little less crazy after reading about my craziness, I can't help you.




Happy Monday!

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