I grew up a dancer. Specifically ballet. And in high school I co-captained the drill team. My favorite activity as a teen was to dance all night at the local all-ages goth night club. Oh yes, I put on my black and white striped tights, doc martins, and black eye-liner every Saturday night to dance to the finest mix of Depeche Mode, The Cure, Siouxie and the Banshees, and Soft Cell (this song gets me every time).
So imagine my surprise when my older son tells me at the ripe old age of three that he hates dancing. I guess I shouldn't be that surprised seeing as how the only way I can get his father to dance is to pour quite a bit of liquid courage in him. But still. I figured any child of mine would be born with the love of the dance.
Thankfully little Leo LOVES to dance. This kid was born to boogie. That's him up there getting down to MJ's Rock With You. And its a good thing too, because dancing makes me a happier mom. Its my first line of defense when we're having a sub-par day. And fortunately Finn has learned to enjoy our little dance parties. He's happy enough to spin around and jump off stuff while Leo and I get our groove on. Now if I could only find my Doc Martins...
LESSON: Just dance!