Dancing is probably one of my favorite things to do. (Outside of drinking wine). When I’m happy, I dance. When I’m bored, I dance. When I’m feeling tired, I dance. Bottom line I love to dance. I dance around so much that I have turned Sophina into a dancing machine. Random dance breaks are part of the very fiber of our household. WE LOVE DANCING. So it’s of course no surprise on the way home from school last week, Soph asked if we could have a dance party when we got in the house. My first reaction was to answer with a quick “No.” I had too much to do. There was dinner that needed to be made, dishes, laundry, bath time, tackling all that hair of hers, lesson planning, a homework assignment and, last but not least, bed time. I simply didn’t have the time. All I had on my mind was to get everything done, so that I could go to bed at a reasonable time. Of course, as I look back to answer Soph she gives me this pleading look to say, “Yes.” Instead I answered, “We will see, if you can get into the bath and let mommy do your hair, then I will let you dance to one song before bed.” That answer was sufficient for her.
We get in the house and it was full steam ahead. I pull out all the ingredients for dinner, and start prepping while she’s playing in the bath. Dinner goes into the oven and we finish up bath time, get dressed and get started on her hair. By the time her hair is done, dinner is ready. Perfect! I do a little dance (of course) because we are making good time. Everything is falling into place. We finally finish dinner and there is just enough time for a “mini” dance party. Once bed time is done. I then realize I still have a long list of things to do. *sigh* As begin multitasking on my to do list, and finally finish everything. It’s time for me to have my own mini dance party. Everything is done and I can go to bed at a reasonable time.
As, I am getting ready for bed I think about how motherhood is similar to dancing, like doing a little two step if you will. There is this way of finessing and stepping into and out of things, to make things flow. Sometimes there is a misstep and we get a little off beat. Then there are days were every move you make becomes a swaggtastic two-step. Something that mirrors that smooth uncle two-step at the summer cook-out. Ya’ll know what I’m talking about. Whatever way you two step through motherhood, remember to make it yours, remember to forgive yourself when you misstep, but never forget to keep on dancing. Until next time.