One of my favorite things to do with B is wedding dancing!
Why? You might ask.
It is one of the only times in life when I don't look like the crazy one.
And I laugh non stop the entire time!
Some good friends of ours got married this past Saturday, and our group of friends found people to watch our kids (not an easy task, and many of us had out of town family come in... thanks Momoo!) so we could drive an hour to celebrate.
After a beautiful ceremony... one where I purposefully found a discreet place to nurse Momas instead of nursing him where we were sitting only to find the entire group of guests turn their heads and look my direction because the bridal party was going to be entering from the side where my lopsided chair on a hill was instead of the brick path that screamed entrance was... we made our way to the barn for drinks and appetizers (yum!) and then into the reception hall for dinner and dancing.
Selfies were being taken and #whadgered, the photobooth had way too much silliness going on, and dinner was served.
Towards the end of dinner you could see it... looks that were darting from person to person.
I kinda want to dance. Are YOU going to dance?
I'm not going to go out there. Well maybe if YOU go out, too.
The flower girl really started off the party when she pulled Auntie Karen out, and I danced beside them with Momas bouncing to sleep on my back. Then I made eye contact with another friend and she grabbed Karen back to the dance floor with We Are Family blasting through the speakers.
I'm not sure how the rest unfolded, but before I knew it my man was out there busting his moves like a crazy person while personal space, inhibition, and introvertness flew out the window.
I spent the evening between flailing my arms around failing at looking like I knew what I was doing, and comforting a crying Momas who just wanted to sleep but couldn't. Getting our baby to sleep eventually won, and we left the party around 10:30 to find our beds by midnight.
The next morning we strolled into church feeling hit by a truck, and exchanging smiles with my Christian community that spoke volumes. We all bonded in a way we never thought we would, and acted like a crazy group of kids for just a few hours on a wedding night. Relationships went a tad deeper because people who said they were NOT going to dance shed their cares of what people would think and got out there. Any image people had, at least of our family, was thrown out the window!
Thinking back on that night, and asking myself why I just love wedding dancing with my hubby I came to this conclusion....
He has always danced with me at weddings. Even before we were dating. I would be sitting by myself with a longing in my eyes to not care about what people think, and there he would be. Hand stretched out to lead me to the dance floor. We would slow dance...but not the romantic kind. He was Braden after all. We would pretend we could ballroom dance. We would crazy dance. And in those moments I was free to be as goofy as I wanted because he was being goofy right beside me.
That, my friends, is love!
When we were 13...
When we were 23...