We all know that pregnancy can get very tiring at the end, especially in the 8th month. With just 3 1/2 weeks left to go until the due date (yes, I am being that specific these days), I am no exception to this trend. It's tiring. Very, very tiring.
But today my mind was totally taunting me with physical movement that I haven't been able to do for many moons and won't have the option to do any time soon: DANCING! It's the weirdest thing. I can't hardly get up off the couch quickly these days, let alone shake my booty on the dance floor, but all I can think about is busting a move. I need a good wedding party or something, but we have no weddings to go to this summer! (That's a first in a long time! Someone get engaged, quick!)
Please don't misunderstand, I'm not saying that I am a GOOD dancer, just that I LOVE dancing. And luckily, I married a man who loves to dance as much as I do so we definitely cut the rug when we're out at dancing functions. My family was always the last to leave the party throughout my childhood - and it's still true to this day - because we all love to dance so much.
I did find a little bit of an outlet today though when I watched the movie "Hairspray" during Jackson's nap. Sure, sure, I just sat on the couch and knit during the whole thing instead of jumping up to dance along (oh, how I wish I could've jumped up at all...), but it was at least fun to watch this feel-good movie and live vicariously through the characters for two hours. It was cheeseball, but so, so fun. (Watching John Travolta boogie as a large, matronly woman in sequins made it all worth it...)
To add to my taunts: I had a little bit of "me" time today in the car without the kid (midwife appointment, knitting date...ah, the life) and was able to turn up the sound to MY music for once (instead of that blasted CD that Jackson will not let me remove from the car that cycles through 21 very irritating kid's songs that he adores...). The songs I found on the radio were DANCING songs! I don't remember all of the ones from this morning, but I can tell you that I have "Play That Funky Music White Boy" stuck in my head now (and you do too, sorry) from my most recent return trip. Pregnant car dancing. This is what I've been reduced to.
Maybe in lieu of the summer weddings of which I've grown so fond over the years, we'll have a backyard dance party to welcome the new babe, once I'm able to shake it comfortably again. Will you come to my dance party?