Last night you were rocked to sleep as I danced to disco and club favorites. You already do your own thing--you started dancing only after I stopped to rest. Your dad danced all night long with extra soul included since I was taking it easy.
I missed not getting to unleash the dance beast. I worried I was jarring you around too much. My back started feeling older than its 28 years. Sometimes I wonder if my body will ever work the way I was used to it working up until I started making you. (I wonder that much less than I wonder about you though.) Even if this body can't walk as far and move as effortlessly, I'm happy it seems to be a suitable temporary dwelling for the beginning of you. If I lament not being able to clean the entire house without feeling repercussions later in the day, I rejoice that my body knows what to do for you without me even giving it any orders.
By the way, one of your grandmas said your mom and dad "are the weirdest dancers" she's ever seen last night. I think we work pretty well off each other on the regular dance floor as well as on the dance floor of life. I don't think it's weird. I think it's fun. I hope you'll dig coming up with sweet moves with us too.
Speaking of moves, I've identified four of the moves in your repertoire so far:
1. The classic punch/ kick
2. "The Bulldoze": where you slide a bigger part of yourself--maybe your bottom or your head--across my belly
3. "The Whoa": where no one can tell what you just did but it's big and impressive
4. "Rhythmiccups": where your hiccups come at perfect intervals for a few minutes at a time
You're the most interesting person I've come into contact with. People always want to talk about you to me. They can't wait to meet you either.