We have a space by our computer that is usually free of toys and other things. It’s also right by the hallway, which is always clear as well. This bit of floor is not just a bit of floor however. It is a place where freedom is found and is a bit of what memories are made of. You see, it is our dance floor.  If you have read some of my earlier entries then you will know that I have little sense of rhythm and I don’t dance. But on the bit of floor, this mama DANCES! The music plays…at this point the girls have specific Raffi songs that they want to dance to…and we stamp our feet and clap our hands. We waltz and we twirl, we promenade, we shake and we jump. And we laugh and sing along with the music. Cecily hangs on to the computer desk and does her own moves or she dances in our arms. Aneliese spins until dizzy or hold our hands, leading or following our moves. Aside from the fact that I have no curtains on our front windows, it is unlikely that anyone other than our own little family will ever see me move with such freedom. I don’t pretend that it is graceful and I hope that my girls aren’t watching and learning too much about how to dance. But I hope that they are learning a few other things from me. Freedom to be who they are with their own abilities and lack there of. Home is a safe place, a haven where joy, love and acceptance are. I love to be with them and to have fun. Daddy and I want to be included in their lives and what they are doing forever. We are meant to celebrate and dance!

As with much our lives, I hope that these lessons shine through, without my ever speaking them to my girls. I hope that my practice sends the message deep into their hearts, the fiber of who they are.