I’m doing the mommy dance a lot lately. You know the one. When you’re trying to cook dinner or fold laundry or clean up the dishes. Something that requires two hands and you don’t have an extra to hold your toddler. Hudson can be playing so well by himself, and so I’ll slip out of the room to tackle one of these chores, and that’s usually when he wants me to hold him. It’s like a sixth sense toddlers have. When they know you can’t hold them, they want you to even more! And they’re holding your legs. Patting them very sweetly with their still-chubby baby hands. And saying, “mommy, hold”. And you seriously can’t pick them up. Or you can’t until you put the milk back in the fridge or the load of laundry down and you have to sort of shuffle/slide/walk to keep from knocking them down.

I love the mommy dance.

Because when it’s over, my baby/toddler reaches up and smiles the biggest smile. The mommy dance is over. And I’m holding my Hudson. He goes for my pony tail. And wraps those sweet little arms around my neck. And I stand in my kitchen and store up that little memory. I hold on tight to it….

And then he’s off. Running through the house yelling, “Ole Miss! Ole Miss!” in his little boy way.

I love the mommy dance…when it’s over.