everything i need to know about dancing.....i learned from cinderella
Ah, another fun party night, when I would love to hang out with my adult friends who don't tell fart jokes and....
Wait. Let me amend that. Who tell FUNNY fart jokes, as well as much more intelligent jokes, and don't laugh so hard they fall on the floor at them.
Elder, Younger, and I left a sick, sick hubby at home (he didn't even remember me tucking him into bed or that I left the house when he woke up three hours later) and went to a party for a couple of friends who have birthdays just days apart. Our group of friends is split between those of us With Children and those of us Without Children. It has become a necessity to haul the children to events, if we want to go, as babysitting is simply too expensive and I feel badly always asking for family to watch them so we can go out. Sometimes, this works well; our best friends have two boys almost the exact same age as our Flowers, and they love to play with each other. Some nights, though, God is out to get us. Last night was almost one of those nights.
Younger DID NOT want to go sleep. She and the Littler Boy have often shared a crib when we've been over after her bed-time. Elder and Bigger Boy had both done the same when they were smaller as well. Last night was the latest in a rebellion by Younger against it. So I had to take her into a spare bedroom and lay down with her until she fell soundly asleep. But then I fell asleep at 10:30 on a Saturday night, over someone else's house, in the middle of a party, when I hadn't been drinking anything (I was driving my children home, so I don't drink a DROP of alcohol then) but caffeine- lots and lots of Coke. I slept for about an hour before waking up.
I am so old and tired, its just sad. Embarrassing.
At least Little and Bigger Boys' dad did the same thing, so I'm not old alone.
The point of talking about the party, though, was not to whine about being tired or the trouble those little Flowers gave me. Its actually about hoe LITTLE trouble they gave me- tired, sugar-high, no nap, yet behaved well. And entertainingly.
At the beginning of the party, Elder wanted to dance to music. She loves to dance around to pretty much any music, any where. So someone put on music (I don't even remember what music, now) and she started dancing. She asked a male attendee to dance with her, who declined; then she asked his girlfriend, a friend of ours, who told Elder that she hadn't had enough to drink to dance in front of a group. Mommy was third choice, but Mommy said yes,.
Elder was being very specific, in her Flowery way, of how I was to dance. She held out the side of her dress and told me to hold there. I thought she meant her dress, and screwy as it seemed, I tried it.
Nope. I got yelled at, and in the exact same tone I use with her, she said, "No. Hold here." The you idiot mommy was left unsaid, but nevertheless understood. So I tried to hold my own shirt out in the same way, explaining that I couldn't manage because of my jeans to do it her exact way, when she yelled at me again. The unsaid italicized words verged on cursing I'm sure.
This time she put my hand on her waist and said, "No! Hold me there, like that."
Than she grasped my other hand in her own, held up and out, and we looked like we were really dancing.Waltzing, old style. (A little difficult on my knees, but I managed.) When I asked her where on earth she learned this, she smiled and said, "Cinderella."
Maybe Disney princesses aren't as terrible as I thought, because she was just damn awfully cute.
And she already waltzes better than me.
Wait. Let me amend that. Who tell FUNNY fart jokes, as well as much more intelligent jokes, and don't laugh so hard they fall on the floor at them.
Elder, Younger, and I left a sick, sick hubby at home (he didn't even remember me tucking him into bed or that I left the house when he woke up three hours later) and went to a party for a couple of friends who have birthdays just days apart. Our group of friends is split between those of us With Children and those of us Without Children. It has become a necessity to haul the children to events, if we want to go, as babysitting is simply too expensive and I feel badly always asking for family to watch them so we can go out. Sometimes, this works well; our best friends have two boys almost the exact same age as our Flowers, and they love to play with each other. Some nights, though, God is out to get us. Last night was almost one of those nights.
Younger DID NOT want to go sleep. She and the Littler Boy have often shared a crib when we've been over after her bed-time. Elder and Bigger Boy had both done the same when they were smaller as well. Last night was the latest in a rebellion by Younger against it. So I had to take her into a spare bedroom and lay down with her until she fell soundly asleep. But then I fell asleep at 10:30 on a Saturday night, over someone else's house, in the middle of a party, when I hadn't been drinking anything (I was driving my children home, so I don't drink a DROP of alcohol then) but caffeine- lots and lots of Coke. I slept for about an hour before waking up.
I am so old and tired, its just sad. Embarrassing.
At least Little and Bigger Boys' dad did the same thing, so I'm not old alone.
The point of talking about the party, though, was not to whine about being tired or the trouble those little Flowers gave me. Its actually about hoe LITTLE trouble they gave me- tired, sugar-high, no nap, yet behaved well. And entertainingly.
At the beginning of the party, Elder wanted to dance to music. She loves to dance around to pretty much any music, any where. So someone put on music (I don't even remember what music, now) and she started dancing. She asked a male attendee to dance with her, who declined; then she asked his girlfriend, a friend of ours, who told Elder that she hadn't had enough to drink to dance in front of a group. Mommy was third choice, but Mommy said yes,.
Elder was being very specific, in her Flowery way, of how I was to dance. She held out the side of her dress and told me to hold there. I thought she meant her dress, and screwy as it seemed, I tried it.
Nope. I got yelled at, and in the exact same tone I use with her, she said, "No. Hold here." The you idiot mommy was left unsaid, but nevertheless understood. So I tried to hold my own shirt out in the same way, explaining that I couldn't manage because of my jeans to do it her exact way, when she yelled at me again. The unsaid italicized words verged on cursing I'm sure.
This time she put my hand on her waist and said, "No! Hold me there, like that."
Than she grasped my other hand in her own, held up and out, and we looked like we were really dancing.Waltzing, old style. (A little difficult on my knees, but I managed.) When I asked her where on earth she learned this, she smiled and said, "Cinderella."
Maybe Disney princesses aren't as terrible as I thought, because she was just damn awfully cute.
And she already waltzes better than me.