The sound of brass, crowds of people, the comforting steps that you no longer need to think about and the adreneline that fills the room ... I had been thinking about going swing dancing since before I got married about a year ago. In the whirlwind of my marriage and getting pregnant, I hadn't been doing the one thing that occupied up to five nights a week of my evenings. Swing dancing had become my social outlet, my exercise and my release, and I missed it terribly. Well, there was the one time my husband and I went out when I was about two months pregnant, but between the nausea and the maternity pants that I kept trying to pull up in the middle of my dance ... I decided it just needed to wait.
Last night I grabbed a girlfriend, daddy took the baby, and I was off. We arrived at in Burbank to a sea of people whom most of we didn't know, and a completely packed room and the band blaring ... I was back!
Kind of. The scene had changed a little, I wasn't exactly the hot stuff I used to be. I used to be grabbed by the best dancers and had to turn many away just to catch my breath. Now ... I stood on the side lines for quite a while before I asked an old friend. Of course, having been out of the group for so long I needed to rely on an my old strategy. I had to dance with the better dancers so that other dancers could see that I actually could dance, and then be asked again.
After my first dance ... nothing happened. I waited, and waited some more (I didn't want to have to keep asking people ... I never had to before). Then, a bite. Someone I didn't know and hadn't seen dance asked. I took the leap and said yes. My new moto? Beggars can't be choosers. Ehhh, this didn't work out so well either. The man whipped me around pulling my arm so hard I almost didn't notice he was completely off beat.
The two drink minimum was no longer a vodka tonic, but 7-up and water. I have lost the tiny bit of tolerance I had over the course of my pregnancy and I was constantly thinking about needing to get up at 5 a.m., baby time.
As I was chatting with my girlfriend, I reached for gum in my purse, found the pink wrapper and pulled out a pacifier instead. The few people I ran into of course were asking about my husband and new baby. I repeated her name and age about ten times throughout the night.
By the time we called it quits, mostly due to the overcrowding, I was tired and sore. My legs felt like they weight about a thousand pounds each, and I was pretty sure that that pinching feeling in my stomach was not abs coming back, but was from my c-section! And of course as happy as I was to be out, I missed my baby girl the whole time. I might go back next week, but it's pretty clear that the motherhood dance is my new style.
