Mambo

Yesterday I was unloading the dishwasher and Joseph was reading a book. All of the sudden he threw his book down and exclaimed "Mommy! I just remembered that I know how to mambo!"

And then he started to dance.

It was ... it was like Frankenstein and a zombie had a baby. And then that baby got drunk and tried to mambo.

I couldn't stop myself from smiling as I watched him thrash and clunk across the room. He moved with the enthusiasm and confidence that one only possesses when they know they are a good dancer. When he noticed me smiling at him he got a huge grin on his face and said "I told you I knew how to mambo!"

Then he mamboed his way over to the couch and sat down to read again.

Can we all agree that we'll never tell him that he dances like a drunken zombie baby? I couldn't bear the lose of cuteness that would occur.

One year ago I was in peak physical condition.
Two years ago today I was terrified of ET. I still am.
Five years ago today I got a belly.

Let's kick it

One of the presents Elle got for Christmas from my parents was a dance class at Just for Kix. She was so excited when she opened the gift and found a little leotard and pair of tights. Now she talks about her "dancing class" all the time. A half a dozen times a day she says "Watch Mama! This is how I dance in dancing class with my dancing class with all the other little girls!" and then she whirls and twirls and dips her way across the room. Or rather, that's what she used to do. Now that she's done it more it's kind of mutated into something like this.

Only less creepy. And more adorable and pink. The class starts on Saturday so today my parents took her to the studio to get her official dance class shoes. Apparently she was very impressed with the studios and it's big wall of mirrors. She also told me that the studio was called "Just for Kicking" and then demonstrated this by kicking the couch.

My parents also bought Elle a pink insulated lunch bag that she could put a juice box and snack in for after class. They also bought her yogurt, cheese and Chex Mix because she asked them too. I think that they, much like me, are powerless against the charms of her charming three-year-old-ishness.* Or maybe there's some hypnotic quality about her dance moves. I wonder if I danced like that if I could get people to buy me things too.

Actually, no. Just the thought of me contorting my body like that is enough to make even me laugh. Oh god. I need to go lay down for a while.

*Seriously, this kid has mad powers. Today she broke something of Joseph's and I told her that she was going to have to buy him ice cream with her own money to make it up to him. She looked at me for a moment and then said "Well I don't have any dollars in my pockets so I can't do that." So I gave her a dollar to put in her pocket. Best. Mother. Ever.

Dancing boobs equals no blogging

For the past three days now I have had this muscle spasm on my chest. It's causing my right boob to jump around. I thought about calling the doctor but then what would I say? "Help me! My boob is jigging!"

My dancing boob is driving me to point of distraction so I'm unable to clean or blog or speak to my husband without snapping at him.

To make up for this lame post here is a picture that I took of a pretty flower.