Today has been one of those days that started out on the wrong foot, then put on a blindfold and started jumping through fiery hula hoops. All the while trying to vacuum up Goldfish my toddler threw across the table. Something like that.
Not a terrible day in the Grand Scope of Eternity. Just a day to remind me to stay in perspective, put on my Big Girl pajama pants, and have a dance party.
Dance parties are one of my Last Ditch Effort tools when I find myself screaming into a spitup-soaked pillow by 9 a.m. Here’s what I do:
1. Plug iPod into the stereo (or turn on the radio)
2. Turn on every light in the living room
3. Put on pajama pants (if jeans are covered in yogurt or spitup at that point)
4. Clear the “dance floor” of Legos (this step is important so you don’t step on one camouflaged in the rug and roll your ankle…again)
5. Put on a smile.
6. Dance with your kids.
That about sums it up. I highly recommend Aerosmith, Adele, Matt Maher, Shania Twain, and Veggie Tales for guaranteed mood-enhancing music. 🙂
Praise God for the gift of music–and for allowing us to need dance parties every once in a while.
I grew up listening to Shania Twain. My sisters and I would choreograph little dances to her songs and perform them for our family at home and on vacations. On a vacation to the beach with my parents and siblings last year, we watched some old home videos of those dances and they were hilarious. My two little sisters were hysterical…so sassy. My tall, gangly wallflower self was always jealous of how outgoing and cute and fun my sisters were.
And now they’re both serious students in college and medical school and I’m the one having the dance party these days…go figure:)