so I came across a great blog post this evening and wanted to share a bit, and to think i didnt think anyone out there felt the way I did...
"Have it all.
When I was young and stupid, I once got drunk and climbed on top of a 6 foot amp in Miami's Crobar (Insert the ATO house here for myself) and danced, let's say, rather expressively until I fell off (got yanked off by a sorority sister) and almost killed the guy underneath me. I should have been embarrassed, but it was one of those close races between completely mortifying and ridiculously funny and, given the way my arms flapped to save my fall and the way my legs landed all cock-eyed like one of those crime scene chalk drawings, it was an undeniable victory for Funny. Let's face it. Being a few sheets to the wind in your 20's wearing something fabulous and believing that, whether or not your mama gave it to ya, you're shakin' it...well, that's fun. Irresponsible, possibly...but still fun.
Then you get married and have kids and wearing something fabulous means nothing more than not wearing pajamas and shakin' it refers only to the way you have to wiggle your butt to weasle it into a pair of pre-baby jeans (Oh so true).You have girlfriend nights here and there where, sure, maybe you'll grab a bite to eat, slam a beer or huddle around someone's coffee table swapping birth stories or comparing milk supplies but, for the most part, gone are the days of collapsing on amps and chalk drawing landings. And rightly so.
But, then there's this secret appetite for it that dwells within. You feel it once and awhile--when you're in the car and this fantastic jam comes on. And you catch yourself tilting the rearview mirror down to reapply some lipgloss. And you want to dance, but you're in a seatbelt so you just imagine yourself dancing (now I never do this LOL). And in your mind, you've got moves that clear the crowds out to one big circle where they're all standing there around you screaming your name, clapping to your fabulousness because you are, most certainly, the World's Best Dancer (Oh God, please tell me I'm not the only one who's had that dream.)-NOPE your NOT You feel it when you're watching a movie and you see a bunch of girlfriends laughing, dressed like goddesses, throwing their hands in the air and their hips to the rhythm of some hypnotic beat that trances you into sucking the marrow out of life.And right when you're about to jump off the couch and join them, you trip on a Playdoh can or feel your milk coming in and you remind yourself that you're a mom. And moms stay home and love on their babies and know that life is really about family and home and reading Goodnight Moon. Moms don't wear heels and moms don't go to clubs and moms don't shake their hips to hypnotic beats.
Or do they? my favorite new quote!
So, I confess. I felt the appetite. The sirens were calling and I wanted to feel it again...to see if I still "got it." And as Saturday night approached and our arranged GNO loomed closer, I strangely was riddled with this guilty confusion. I wanted to wear sexy jeans and cram my toes into crippling heels but at the same time, I wanted to put my girls to bed and fall asleep to nothing more than the rhythm of their breath. I wanted to wear red lipstick and jam in the bathroom to Madonna while I pulled curlers out of my hair for our pre-night pep rally, but I also wanted to pretend like I was too good for this folly--that I was far too mature and in tune with what really matters than to fill high school cravings for dance clubs and daquiris...." and it goes on you can read the whole thing here @ http://www.kellehampton.com/
Its so funny how sometimes reading someone elses thoughts make you feel a little better. and I dont know about any of you but in the car I feel the "beat" a lot...then I try to make sure nobody saw me shaking it hahaha. I have to admit though I havent really let myself have "girls night out" since Will has been born.me and Joey have been out a few times and I think the first time I have really let loose was at BBQ Fest and it was really fun but then you go home and remember what really matters. So I know eventually I will find the middle ground or the best of both worlds but until then I can ease my internal struggle with myself knowing that there are other moms out there who have those urges too.
