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Thanks to my daughter, I rediscovered the joy of dancing.  I realized that I’d lost touch with how to play.  When and why did this happen?  It seems sad that I’ve had to look on-line for things to do that might entertain her.  It doesn’t seem like that should be hard, but I come up blank.  Then I remembered a co-worker saying that the first time she really felt like a mother, and not just a provider, was when she danced with her baby daughter.  I thought I’d give it a try.  When I suggested it to my daughter, she burbled an enthusiastic “blaaarrbbthpppth” followed by a big, drooly grin.  So, when it’s time to wind down for a nap, I click on my Itunes.  I lift her up so that she can rest her chin on my shoulder.  Snuggled cheek to cheek, we dance.  She is fourteen pounds of sweetness and her little sighs as she drowses to sleep are so peaceful.

For me, this is an excellent time to count my blessings.  She is so good for me.  I get tickled by how she lights up, smiles and giggles at nothing.  I can’t figure out what’s so funny about our ceiling, but it doesn’t matter.  I could watch her all day and find myself responding to her antics with my own rusty giggles.  With her help, I am going to learn how to play again.  

I look forward to seeing the world through my daughter’s eyes.  I can’t wait to cast aside my jadedness and show her all of the wonderful things that she has to discover.  Only three months old, and she has already helped me discover things as well.  Such as what joy there is to be found in something as simple as dancing in the kitchen.  Sometimes, I try to imagine how the dance will change as she grows.  When she’s too heavy to hold in my arms, she can stand on my feet.  But after that, when she can dance on her own, will she still want to dance with me?  I hope so.  But for now, with Chris Isaak in the background, we snuggle and sway, she with her eyes trustingly closed in slumber and me with a silly sloppy smile on my face.