Because When the Music Plays, We Dance

Oh my goodness. Having a 9 month old baby has to be one of the best things in the world. I love how every simple thing is the most exciting thing that could ever happen.

Mom’s pulling out the oatmeal to make me breakfast?! (I AM SQUEALING SO LOUD WIGH EXCITEMENT THAT I’M ALMOST HYPERVENTILATING!)

We just walked through that door and there is a PERSON on the other side!? (OKAY, I’VE TOTALLY STOPPED BREATHING BECAUSE THAT IS JUST THE COOLEST THING EVER!)

Mom was hiding on the other side of the couch and I found her?! (DUDE, THIS DAY JUST NOT GET ANY BETTER!)

And then there’s the dancing.

I never realised how much music was around the place… until the flailing arms started reminding me – with every ring of the telephone, with every accidental “play” of one of those musical toys (which I think are quite creepy how they sometimes go off when the entire family is in another room, by the way), with every elevator-style background song in the camping store.

These are Max’s favourite moment. And he loves them. And to him, the only thing better than dancing… is when mom and dad dance too.

And can I tell you, I LOVE IT! I mean seriously (except when you were on a high school youth group trip and even then it was iffy, you just didn’t realise), when else do you get to dance down the aisles of a store and its not only socially acceptable…people actually think its kind of cute and funny… except when its cracking your 9 month old baby up as he grooves a move on top of his daddy’s shoulders.

Yep, 9 month old babies are pretty much the best thing in the world.

I Feel Like Dancing! Dancing!

Jared and I have NO rhythm. I’m embarrassed to say that at our wedding reception with our friends in Australia (which has gone down in history as the best YWAM Townsville dance party to date), we *might* have even done the fishing move. Yep. I flopped to Jared as he reeled me in.

Needless to say, hot moves are not a gift we will be passing onto our son.

In fact, we barely have music playing in our house. (And we DEFINITELY didn’t play music for my womb.) Baby Einstein we are not.

So that’s why it was such a mystery when Max was waving his arms around last week. Was he working on his sign language? Developing a different style greeting? Teaching himself karate?

The mystery was solved today.

We were at the YWAM Australia National Leaders Meeting and stepped out for a nappy change. Out on the deck were a group of teenagers from the Youth Street dance team. They were stoked to see Max as he had hung out with them the previous week. In fact, they were so excited, they decided to show us the new dance they were learning.

As the music played, I figured out that Max’s new moves… were his new grooves! The kid learned to dance. Between crawling and grooving he almost looks like an expert B-Boy! (Okay, more like a goofy wannabe… its definitely hilarious and adorable…)

It hit my heart right there and then (again) what a privilege it is we have to raise Max here. No, it in no way compares to family. But at the same time, he is in such a rich environment. A place where the things that Jared and I can’t teach him, there are people standing around us who are ready to jump in, love on him, share with him and teach him.

We are so grateful for each one of you who imparts not only into our lives but into our son’s. For the meaningful ways that you care for him – not just because he happens to be cute – but because he has a purpose and destiny in life and you want the very very best for him.

I’m so grateful I feel like dancing…

Don’t worry. I’ll spare you.

Dancing with Uncle Mena to JoJo's awesome tunes