I've always felt it terribly ironic that Mother's Day falls in May, one of the busiest months of the year. Graduations, First Communions, Field Days, Early Dismissals, Athletic Banquets, Academic Awards ... the list goes on. Who has time for Mother's Day? But one year, in the midst of all that busyness, I learned to dance the Hoedown Throwdown ...
Last weekend my sixth grader and some of his friends decided to go see Hannah Montana, the Movie. Why that movie? I have no earthly idea. Maybe it was because the group consisted of both boys and girls and this was one they could all agree on.
Since my son was the one who organized this outing, I told him that I was staying with the group as chaperone but that I promised to sit far, far, faaaaaaar away.
So, I went to the movies with a bunch of sixth graders who pretended not to know me.
But that was okay with me . . . after a while, I pretended not to know them because I so wanted to be Hannah Montana.
Suddenly, for two delightful hours I forgot I was a mom and a wife. I didn’t think about 8th grade graduation, school banquets, teachers’ gifts, carpooling . . .
No, instead I wanted to pull out my guitar and play a folk song. I wanted to paint something. I wanted to create, and beautify, and design. I wanted to dance the Hoedown Throwdown.
It’s not that I was nostalgic (or at least, not much anyway), but I think the movie was a subtle reminder for me to just chill.
Lately there had been too much responsibilty and seriousness. Lately there had not been enough fun and silliness.
Then, for Mother’s Day my son gave me the Hannah Montana movie soundtrack complete with links to access the lyrics and the dance video.
What’s for dinner?
I’m not really sure. But wanna dance the Hoedown Throwdown with me?