Zumba with Hubby. . . 'Nuff Said

My husband must really love me; he came to Zumba with me and shook what the good Lord gave him.

I am a newbie at Zumba myself.  I just started going a couple weeks ago.  All I knew when I started was that it is Latin dance oriented.  Its goal is to make exercise fun and it is that. . . and more.  I was not expecting all the shaking and thrusting of body parts and was surprised to find that the grandmas in there can definitely get down with their bad selves.

Our instructor, Cheryl, reminds us, "Your Zumba might not look like my Zumba."  Let me tell you, mine does not look like hers.  She dances like she could be in a Beyonce music video and I look like a seventh grade girl, self-conscious and with not much control over my limbs.  And very, very white; I admit it.  And Dave looked. . . well, like a guy.  But I have to give him credit for not only dancing in a room full of women and circling his hips, but also doing it enthusiastically.

It's our five-year anniversary today.  I love a man who will Zumba with me just so we can hang out together.  It has been five wonderful years and I can't wait to spend the rest of our lives together.

So proud to be your wife <3

Potty Stories

#1.  It seems as if all my friends are potty training their kids or are already finished.  We're still working on E. being willing to sit there fully clothed.  However, we did have somewhat of a breakthrough the other day.  In the middle of changing him, I realized I had to go and since my bladder isn't the same since having him, I couldn't waste any time.  So we went to the bathroom together.  E. was intermittently sitting on the potty and roaming around opening cabinets.  At one point, when he was seated, I heard a funny noise.  What is that? I wondered.  It took me a second, but I realized it was the sound of E. actually peeing in his potty.  Hooray.  I praised him and rewarded him with flushing the toilet and washing his hands.  Unfortunately, that has not motivated him to repeat the action.

#2.  E. is a great imitator these days.  He mimics everything from the way we sit on chairs to girls whining at the pool to his Daddy yelling, "Dang It."  So when we found ourselves yet again in the bathroom going potty, he saw me with my hands folded and he folded his, too.  Then he started to mumble some words.  He was praying, knowing that we fold our hands when we pray before dinner. I don't think I've actually prayed on the toilet before but why not?  Maybe I should be using that time to offer up some prayers that E. will get potty trained sooner rather than later.  My nose thinks so anyway.