Friday, January 24, 2014

Sifting Through Life: Dancing

A few weekends ago, Cory and I went on a three day getaway with the little kids (nothing romantic about this one-LOL)  We barely slept.  The kids were great, which they usually are except that Finnley was having a hard time sleeping some where new and I was having a hard time sleeping because Cory was snoring like a fog horn.

SERIOUSLY! The snoring is out of control.

 He just ordered a chin strap and I am afraid if this does not work I am going to be moving into our spare room.  I can't sleep.  I feel so bad too because I know he is not doing it on purpose but there are some nights that I just want to scream.


I am almost certain the screaming is not going to help the situation but I honestly think that it would help me, in some sort of twisted way.

I have drifted from my main thought, sorry!

The company that Cory works for celebrated 10 years in business and flew everyone in for a relaxing trip to the Hyatt in Cambridge, MD.  The weekend was gloomy with lots of fog and rain.  This was not that big a deal because they have this amazing swimming pool and other activities were planned.

One event that was scheduled was a trip to the new bowling alley.  Because it was during the day, the place was pretty bare.  I did not bowl because of a shoulder injury that decides to flare up when I do anything repetitive with my arm, like throwing an 8 pound ball for an hour.

Or raking leaves.

Or beating egg whites with a whisk<--who does that anyways...LOL

Isabella was thrilled to be doing something outside of the hotel.  She was anxiously waiting for her Dad to finish his meeting so we could hit the road.  Not only did they have bowling but they had arcade games and 25 cent tattoo machines.

As I was sitting there drinking my super sized unsweetened ice tea and nibbling on the best freakin' homemade fries I have had in a very long time , I noticed Isabella dancing.

Dancing in the space where you stand to pick up your balls from the conveyor built.






I thought maybe she would start singing "the hills are alive with the sound of music"....but I knew she wouldn't because she doesn't know those words.

Without a care in the world.  Just being the happiest kid to be alive.

She looked at me and smiled.

I smiled back.  I thought to myself, "wow... to be a kid again and to have that much inner peace and acceptance that you just decide to dance AND you do it."  She does what comes to mind.  Her body doesn't question her when she

It made me happy and sad at the same time.  Happy for her and sad for me.  I thought, please don't grow up.  Stay 6 forever!  

It reminded me of a conversation I had with my 17 year old a few weeks ago.  He mentioned to me that it "sucks to get older" because you become so aware of what others think of you and that changes you.

Changes how you see yourself, how you react to others, how you make your decisions.

 It causes you to pause.

On this same trip I did not bring a swim suit.  There was no way in heck I was going to put on a swim suit after just having had a baby--that was so stupid--duh, I just had a baby--what better excuse could I have had to be in the shape I am.   Total brain fart there.

So I sat and watched.

I watched Isabella and Cory laughing and playing in a pool that was pretty much to ourselves.

Isabella gets out of the pool and dances to the jacuzzi.

There she is again dancing, happy and so full of joy.  It dawned on me.  Isabella doesn't care what size I am or what my swim suit looks like.  Heck, I would have been in the pool the whole time.

I promised myself that for now on I will be bringing my swim suit and swimming.  It is important to her and to me that she remembers that I was not just one of those Mom's that sat on the sideline watching her kids.  I want to participate and make memories with her.

I want to dance more.

I love to dance.

I will dance...

...maybe when my family least expects it in a room full of people.


Isabella dancing at 3.  She has loved to dance since she could walk. 

Written by Sherron Watson


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