Mom! Stop!!!


It’s true.  I’ve been known to dance to the radio – badly – and do it with excessive flair.  My body loves to move to the beat.  It really doesn’t care who’s watching or if it looks good.  Heck, the more crazy the better for me!  I love getting my groove on.  My kids loved this as tots and we’d all move and shimmy and shake to the beat of whatever was on at the time.  It sped up cleaning and cooking and  getting chores done.  It made little kids who didn’t want to get dressed in the morning actually put their clothes on and do it with a grin. It made tired kids who were cranky do things that they were told, and it made little kids who refused bedtime crawl into them all on their own.  What if there was no radio you ask?  I would make up silly songs about what we were doing all in an attempt to be a great and goofy mom.  I succeeded very well.  Not bragging – just sayin, it was a trick i learned and it worked well, especially if I added a Pirate mom voiceover to narrate our fun.

Signal LightFlash forward to today.  My brain is not easily retrained, so what used to elicit giggles now brings forth urgent pleas to STOP doing the crazy mom thing.  Someone might see!  But the beat on the radio is so good!  I just cant help it!  I gotta move…  so I try to comply and just bop my head.  I get a sideways look and a warning from the teen sitting next to me.  Sigh.  But I wanna dance!  I look at her again.  She shakes her head no.  Oh okay.  I am nice and I stop because the other cars speeding past worrying about where they are going are sure to notice me and care that I was bopping my head to music in my own van.

But I have teens, not tots.  It matters very much what the eyes around them think and I am messing things up just a bit by getting crazy.

Will I always comply?  Heck no!  Thats my JOB!  If I want to get them ready for the real world, I gotta make sure they can handle a little crazy now and then.  A dancing mom in the car at a stop light is easy practice for handling the stress of crazy life.  It’s a tough job – embarrassing the kids – but somebody’s gotta do it.  Might as well be me!  🙂

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