Just a Woman with a Sharpie

365 RANDOM DAYS OF TEAM ZYBKO

DAY # 159

JUNE 18th, 2012

IF YOU HAVE THE CHOICE TO SIT IT OUT OR DANCE

I HOPE YOU DANCE.

Do you remember that old country song by Lee Ann Womack?

I HOPE YOU DANCE

I guess it technically was country but not really really country, if you know what I mean. No one lost a woman, crashed a truck or had a few too many cold ones. Just sweet and sing alongable. I loved it when it came out and still do. The message is nice, reminding you to make the most of every day, every opportunity every chance to enjoy life. Not from the outside looking in but actually in it. Life is a dance ya' know. Oh wait that is a totally different old country song. That's a good one too, can't remember who sings that though.

I suppose it was about ten years ago now. The whole family would sing the chorus at the top of our lungs, each time it circled back around in the lyrics.

I HOPE YOU DANCE!

Day beach trips back then were a given every weekend. Rain, sleet or shine. Baby Daddy sometimes choosing the long scenic route to actually lengthen our trip and and pretend to be lost. It was always a little entertaining to see a slight panic in the kids eyes which quickly turned to a look of excitement. Those little freaks love a good challenge and adventure, not sure where they get it from. These adventures make really good memories and stories. Plus, at this point even a new home schooling mom has to laugh at the impromptu navigation lesson using a map. Seems a bit ridiculous and unnecessary at this point. I'm talking a big ole paper map that is, smart phones were still just a vision. Lala wouldn't know what a neatly folded up road map looked like if it hit her in the head. I gotta give her some props though, she does hold the family high score in Jet Pack Joyride. That's my girl.

Lost or not, not a problem.

It didn't matter how long it took us really, we were simply Dancing

Hands up, warm sunshine and fast wind in our face. Cruising down the back roads, top down, riding in style. A red 5 passenger sport scar convertible. 3 kids and 1 prison van ago.

I HOPE YOU DANCE

Our favorite hit of the month set on repeat in the fancy CD player. No IPOD auxiliary cord to get tangled or misplaced. A simple push of a tiny button. Track #4. Over and over again. We all knew every word. On a timeline it was years ago but in my mind I have only flipped a page. Ten years = one page. Seems impossible and makes my brain hurt that days, months and years can flip away at that rate.

Those days of

Dancing

have a special place in my heart and my memory bank.

The baby of the family will be five years old at the end of this long hot South Carolina summer. That pregnancy is impossible to forget. Record temperatures created sweat in newly created overeating rolls. Unexpected family health issues and of course month #8 when the 2 year old at the time broke his leg. Carrying the big headed toddler everywhere until he got used to his full leg cast.

No more babies since then. Team Zybko have reached a milestone and a new era. An interesting zone to this momma. A place in motherhood some would say easier.

No diapers

No sippy cups

No help needed buckling up.

Everyone can swim, dress and feed themselves.

Climbing up the soccer bleacher steps no one needs a mom spotter.

Hhhhmmmm

What do I do with this new mom freedom and time?

Not really sure I'm comfortable here.

I'm sure I look awkward to others

as I certainly feel like a fish out of water inside.

Standing around at the park and watching as the kids run around and play happily. No new walker to hover over and make sure they don't eat the sand. Sitting causally on the side of the pool and watching instead of holding a slippery fat splashy one year old. Watching and taking pictures of the game cause now my other hand isn't being used to cover up a nursing baby and boob.

This new place gives me choices

Choice that are usually made for me.

Choices I haven't had to make in gazillion years.

Do I watch or dance?

I have to admit, lately I've been somewhat of a lazy dancer.

I've chosen more times than I would like to admit to be a watcher not a dancer with my kids. It happens fast. It's easy to fall off the ALL IN IT wagon to....

Oh you go ahead I will catch the next one.

Do I deserve to relax a little?

Sure.

Is it OK not to be Julie the cruise director

every minute of the day?

Sure.

Is it fine to actually take a break?

Sure.

Is it easy to blame old creaky knees on not participating?

Oh, yea.

Do I already dance more than other moms?

Maybe.

But I'm not really into comparing.

This is my standard. No one elses.

WATCH or DANCE

This girl is done watching.

Time to dust off my fun mom dancing shoes and get in the action.

Let's DANCE!

These pictures are not great. Of me that is. Old lady granny panties in full view. Mascara smeared over my tired face. Messy hair and retired pregnancy veins I'm not sure how to erase on the computer.

That's alright. When you are in the moment, living and dancing at full speed. Just not important. Even if they show up in pictures these minor details are magically erased in my head. Ten minutes of straight up WWF is good for the mind, body and soul. The younger stooges have never experienced my evil twin sister Veronica. I get in character with a serious face and a bad accent. I laugh inside as Delilah cries for her REAL MOMMY to come back. Too bad sister you are going down.