Ohhhhhh how I miss blogging.
Excuse after excuse keeps me away.
Ho hum.
So to help wrap up this hump day, here's a little Love Shack dancing...
It was too much fun in the car so we carried it inside and continued the crazy dancing in the living room to Lady Gaga, Madonna, Avril Lavigne and Gwen Stefani. Some of my favorites.
...She can laugh at the days to come. Proverbs 31:25 NIV
Showing posts with label dancing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dancing. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 3
Thursday, March 22
Familiar scene
Every now and then I run into a deja vu moment. Something I'm positive I've seen before and sometimes, just sometimes I fortunately happen to have a picture to back it up. For instance, back when Jim graduated we were celebrating the free time he finally had and dancing ensued. Nathan was 10 months old, Katherine was 3 1/2.
Whaddyaknow, it happened again but just because. Here, Katherine is almost 6, Nathan is 3 1/2, and Brandon is 9 months old.
Whaddyaknow, it happened again but just because. Here, Katherine is almost 6, Nathan is 3 1/2, and Brandon is 9 months old.
Wednesday, June 22
Monster trucks & Princesses
He can be such a good sport, sometimes. They were off to the ball, first, then Monster Truck Jam.
Some good old fashion dress-up and dancing fun.
Some good old fashion dress-up and dancing fun.
Tuesday, April 6
The "Beat It" beat down
Since being married, I have been painfully reminded that I'm no where near as funny as I think I am. Although, I run into fresh meat every now and then, and they miraculously find ways to think my dramatic antics are hilarious at first, then I believe it starts to wear on them. So, I really enjoy running into new people who take the time and energy to laugh when I'm trying to be entertaining.
Enter in children. Boy, talk about fresh meat. It doesn't take much to make a 6-month-old smile or an 18-month-old laugh, especially if you know all the right tickle spots. Well, I have a brand new 4-year-old that is starting to test the waters of joke-making (and I mean test the waters). Her idea of a joke is usually something like this:
"Hey mom. Are we going to eat ... a ... CHAIR for lunch?" with insane laughter to follow.
So my story begins with a typical evening of attempting to feed two kids that are trying to survive on approximately 25 calories per day. I prepared a meal I knew they liked and have eaten before, with no snacks before hand and knew they ate enough to satisfy a newborn hummingbird for lunch. So, they should have been eating more.
I found myself repeating "just eat it" about every 10 seconds and it really started to get old. All that repeating the same thing over and over again lead me to start singing "eat it." For those of you from the right time period (boy, am I telling my age), you'll remember there was a song Weird Al Yankovic sang called Eat It that was a parody of Michael Jackson's song Beat It. I've never been good at remembering a whole song's lyrics, other than the majority of the chorus, so I started singing, "Eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm eat it" over and over again.
An interest was sparked and the biggest bird-eater asked, "Mommy, what are you singing?"
"Oh honey, there was a song when I was growing up; it was a silly song; that had those words in it. Eat it, eat it. Just like I wish you would do."
The perplexed look on her face made me realize that attempting to explain that it was a parody wasn't going to make any hill of beans difference so I got up and decided to find a video on YouTube and turn it up real loud so they could hear it from the office. I found a video of Weird Al, but decided to play the real thing: Michael Jackson's Beat It.
Both children were in their seats, not eating, but sitting patiently and the song started to blast from the little computer speakers that came with the computer (I'm sure they weren't made to play that loud). I turned it up pretty loud to make sure they could hear the music real well and I noticed it. "It" was a captive audience that occasionally finds me funny, with some really good music playing.
I couldn't hold back. The beat from Beat It triggered something in my bones and the urge overcame me. I started to dance, in the kitchen, in front of this captive audience. The type of dancing the Spartan cheerleaders on Saturday Night Live or Elaine from Seinfeld would be proud of. Four and a half minutes worth of sideways finger v's uncovering my eyes (from Pulp Fiction), Rockette-style high leg kicks, lots of hip-shaking, spinning around, snapping to the beat, jerky head motions, Jersey Shore fist-pumping, raising the roof, contorted facial expressions, peeking around and dancing next to the door jamb, anything and everything I could pull from my dance moves folder was used and with much gusto and passion. The grand finale was topped off with a big "whoo!", hands in the air, spirit sprinkle, mouth wide open and a "ta da" look on my face!
And my children were paralyzed ...
and ...
speechless.
Through my labored breathing, I sat down at the table, smiled, said real sweet and Mommy-like, "What's wrong, you didn't think that was funny?"
They were still paralyzed. I've seen that look before because I know my brother and I made them more times than I could count. We made that face usually after one of our parents did something that embarrassed us so much we prayed the heavens would open up and swallow us just to save us from the wrath of ostracizing that was soon to come. But four years old and 18-months? Are they embarrassed already?
I'm pretty sure it had more to do with, "Mom complains about sitting on the floor to read me books and she's capable of all that?" or most likely "What the he** was all that and what does it have to do with eating?"
I think when Katherine finally spoke, she said something random like, "Mommy, do kitty cats like to play with dogs?"
The children managed to sit still and quietly for the majority of the next two songs, Thriller and Billie Jean, but they made it very clear what I was doing was not amusing AT ALL to them. Now, if I would have sat at the table and crossed my eyes while sticking out my tongue, THAT would've been funny.
I guess the biggest lesson I got out of my little dancing routine was that in the midst of my "actions" I think I'm funny. I probably wouldn't think I was that funny if I was watching me either, but acting out the video reels constantly playing in my head is quite amusing and entertaining to . . . only . . . me.
So now, instead of having just one big person who doesn't think I'm funny, I can now add two little people who are rather confused when I act out my silliness.
Oh well, paybacks I guess: practice for their teenage years. :)
Enter in children. Boy, talk about fresh meat. It doesn't take much to make a 6-month-old smile or an 18-month-old laugh, especially if you know all the right tickle spots. Well, I have a brand new 4-year-old that is starting to test the waters of joke-making (and I mean test the waters). Her idea of a joke is usually something like this:
"Hey mom. Are we going to eat ... a ... CHAIR for lunch?" with insane laughter to follow.
So my story begins with a typical evening of attempting to feed two kids that are trying to survive on approximately 25 calories per day. I prepared a meal I knew they liked and have eaten before, with no snacks before hand and knew they ate enough to satisfy a newborn hummingbird for lunch. So, they should have been eating more.
I found myself repeating "just eat it" about every 10 seconds and it really started to get old. All that repeating the same thing over and over again lead me to start singing "eat it." For those of you from the right time period (boy, am I telling my age), you'll remember there was a song Weird Al Yankovic sang called Eat It that was a parody of Michael Jackson's song Beat It. I've never been good at remembering a whole song's lyrics, other than the majority of the chorus, so I started singing, "Eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm eat it" over and over again.
An interest was sparked and the biggest bird-eater asked, "Mommy, what are you singing?"
"Oh honey, there was a song when I was growing up; it was a silly song; that had those words in it. Eat it, eat it. Just like I wish you would do."
The perplexed look on her face made me realize that attempting to explain that it was a parody wasn't going to make any hill of beans difference so I got up and decided to find a video on YouTube and turn it up real loud so they could hear it from the office. I found a video of Weird Al, but decided to play the real thing: Michael Jackson's Beat It.
Both children were in their seats, not eating, but sitting patiently and the song started to blast from the little computer speakers that came with the computer (I'm sure they weren't made to play that loud). I turned it up pretty loud to make sure they could hear the music real well and I noticed it. "It" was a captive audience that occasionally finds me funny, with some really good music playing.
I couldn't hold back. The beat from Beat It triggered something in my bones and the urge overcame me. I started to dance, in the kitchen, in front of this captive audience. The type of dancing the Spartan cheerleaders on Saturday Night Live or Elaine from Seinfeld would be proud of. Four and a half minutes worth of sideways finger v's uncovering my eyes (from Pulp Fiction), Rockette-style high leg kicks, lots of hip-shaking, spinning around, snapping to the beat, jerky head motions, Jersey Shore fist-pumping, raising the roof, contorted facial expressions, peeking around and dancing next to the door jamb, anything and everything I could pull from my dance moves folder was used and with much gusto and passion. The grand finale was topped off with a big "whoo!", hands in the air, spirit sprinkle, mouth wide open and a "ta da" look on my face!
And my children were paralyzed ...
and ...
speechless.
Through my labored breathing, I sat down at the table, smiled, said real sweet and Mommy-like, "What's wrong, you didn't think that was funny?"
They were still paralyzed. I've seen that look before because I know my brother and I made them more times than I could count. We made that face usually after one of our parents did something that embarrassed us so much we prayed the heavens would open up and swallow us just to save us from the wrath of ostracizing that was soon to come. But four years old and 18-months? Are they embarrassed already?
I'm pretty sure it had more to do with, "Mom complains about sitting on the floor to read me books and she's capable of all that?" or most likely "What the he** was all that and what does it have to do with eating?"
I think when Katherine finally spoke, she said something random like, "Mommy, do kitty cats like to play with dogs?"
The children managed to sit still and quietly for the majority of the next two songs, Thriller and Billie Jean, but they made it very clear what I was doing was not amusing AT ALL to them. Now, if I would have sat at the table and crossed my eyes while sticking out my tongue, THAT would've been funny.
I guess the biggest lesson I got out of my little dancing routine was that in the midst of my "actions" I think I'm funny. I probably wouldn't think I was that funny if I was watching me either, but acting out the video reels constantly playing in my head is quite amusing and entertaining to . . . only . . . me.
So now, instead of having just one big person who doesn't think I'm funny, I can now add two little people who are rather confused when I act out my silliness.
Oh well, paybacks I guess: practice for their teenage years. :)
Tuesday, September 29
Dress-up Tuesday
Every now and then I read about 'suggestions' for toddler play and I do my best to incorporate something new and different into our daily routine, at least weekly. Last week Katherine and I prepared a meal in her kitchen, packed it up with other picnic items, took a ride in the couch car, arrived at our 'cation' (short for vacation, which I'm finding out means anyplace fun), enjoyed looking at the farm animals in my room, took a dip in the pool in Nathan's room and admired the lovely sleeping accommodations in Katherine's room.
Yesterday we had our 'touchy-feely' workshop. I assembled things with different textures for us to touch, feel and talk about. Metal & plastic spoons, cotton balls, a fingernail file, her silky princess skirt, a DVD case, some strips of paper, etc. What did they feel like: soft, hard, cold, easy to break or pull apart. Last week in school she learned about her 5 senses so the cotton balls (which I use mostly for removing fingernail polish) introduced the sense of smell, they were stinky, and we talked about listening to the other items, tasting them and seeing them.
Today was another dress-up day. You may recall our last dress-up incident. I wasn't that patient this time, so it was just her dress-up time today. She got to pick out whatever she wanted to wear in my closet and try it on.
Mommy's skirt she wore to Molly's wedding...
Mommy's dress she wore to our wedding rehearsal...
(I can so see her trying on dresses for a school dance)
Mommy's juking dress she wore one time on our honeymoon...
(Why am I keeping this dress?)
And the one she settled on...
After she picked out the dress to wear for the next 15 minutes, we moved to her room and somehow ended up dancing. Although, I use that term loosely. It was more like interpretive dancing. She, wearing the blue flowery skirt turned into a tunic-style dress, and I, still in my pajamas, danced to the classical music tunes very cleverly turned into "Princess music" by Disney. Shirtless Nathan (I'm having visions of what his school dance outfit will be also) attempted to understand the overload of feminine-ness he was witnessing by sitting with his mouth wide open. Still. Speechless. It didn't take me long though to realize that his stillness was all part of the act.
Background: Katherine has a door stop that is easily removable and Nathan seems to think its fun to pull it off, put the dusty, grimy, metal spring-like object in his mouth, and chew on it. MANY, many times he has been told no, especially after realizing that it was missing for days and now the door knob has started creating an indention in the drywall.
So, Mr. quiet, who looks like he's in shock, is actually eyeing and slowly inching toward the door stop. In the middle of the 'dancing' a deep-voiced, resounding "NOOOOOO" comes from Mommy when I realize he's reaching for it. (The eyes in the back of my head are evolving to my advantage). Our venue had to change, the skirt/dress came off and it was time for bottle and nap.
Yesterday we had our 'touchy-feely' workshop. I assembled things with different textures for us to touch, feel and talk about. Metal & plastic spoons, cotton balls, a fingernail file, her silky princess skirt, a DVD case, some strips of paper, etc. What did they feel like: soft, hard, cold, easy to break or pull apart. Last week in school she learned about her 5 senses so the cotton balls (which I use mostly for removing fingernail polish) introduced the sense of smell, they were stinky, and we talked about listening to the other items, tasting them and seeing them.
Today was another dress-up day. You may recall our last dress-up incident. I wasn't that patient this time, so it was just her dress-up time today. She got to pick out whatever she wanted to wear in my closet and try it on.
Mommy's skirt she wore to Molly's wedding...
Mommy's dress she wore to our wedding rehearsal...
(I can so see her trying on dresses for a school dance)
Mommy's juking dress she wore one time on our honeymoon...
(Why am I keeping this dress?)
And the one she settled on...
After she picked out the dress to wear for the next 15 minutes, we moved to her room and somehow ended up dancing. Although, I use that term loosely. It was more like interpretive dancing. She, wearing the blue flowery skirt turned into a tunic-style dress, and I, still in my pajamas, danced to the classical music tunes very cleverly turned into "Princess music" by Disney. Shirtless Nathan (I'm having visions of what his school dance outfit will be also) attempted to understand the overload of feminine-ness he was witnessing by sitting with his mouth wide open. Still. Speechless. It didn't take me long though to realize that his stillness was all part of the act.
Background: Katherine has a door stop that is easily removable and Nathan seems to think its fun to pull it off, put the dusty, grimy, metal spring-like object in his mouth, and chew on it. MANY, many times he has been told no, especially after realizing that it was missing for days and now the door knob has started creating an indention in the drywall.
So, Mr. quiet, who looks like he's in shock, is actually eyeing and slowly inching toward the door stop. In the middle of the 'dancing' a deep-voiced, resounding "NOOOOOO" comes from Mommy when I realize he's reaching for it. (The eyes in the back of my head are evolving to my advantage). Our venue had to change, the skirt/dress came off and it was time for bottle and nap.
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