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Tonight I’m going to a free Zumba class. For a tall lass with lanky arms and legs, this could be quite a humiliating experience. How does one dance again?

I think the hips are supposed to be slightly separated from the torso! They wiggle and flap…I guess (depending on how much extra luggage you’re carrying down there). Then there are the steps. For feet as big as mine it takes twice as long for them to carry out these fast paced movements, so I have to work twice as hard. Kudos, Emma! The arms have a role too, I hear. No flabby arms for Zumbanians! So do they swing or strut or pose? And how on earth do I put the three together and look good at the same time? Impossible!

Over the past ten or so years I have resorted to silly dancing. Because ultimately that’s what I look best doing. Having kids makes it easier to get away with such ridiculous moves. They join in and you have yourself a decent and funny kind of dance party. No judgement, just giggles and great beats. Silly dancing involves pulling crazy faces, large movements and a little bit of slapstick. The bigger the better. Nothing beats the sound of my kids wetting themselves laughing over something awesomely funny that I’m doing. I don’t really care what anyone else thinks as long as they’re amused.

But then there’s public dancing. Now silly dancing is ok in public if you have a fun group of friends around you who will laugh at you in love or join in themselves. However, if your friends are dull and easily embarrassed, stick to the occasional clapping of hands and the side-to-side foot movement with a mildly amused look on your face. Or just sit and have a drink and watch the professionals do their thing.

When it comes to ‘exercise dancing’ such as Zumba, there’s nothing for it except tears of laughter and a touch of the silly. Wiggling the bottom, c’mon, that’s funny. I hope there’s no belly dancing component. In the end I just want to do something that is exercise without realising it’s exercise. More fun than pain and Zumba seems like the perfect option.

Love the laugh!!!! Get the picture?

image by Mortefot

With all this nice weather going ’round, it gets me thinking about my perfect day. Throw out cost, waistline measurements and other restrictions and come with me on a dreaming journey to my perfect day.

Morning – 9am I wake to the smell of freshly brewed Campos coffee. The aroma draws me out of bed with a lightness, like I’m floating towards the kitchen nose-first. My eyes open to a beautiful scene. There’s my family, passing the cereal, using their utensils and manners and giggling non-stop. Suddenly I notice a tray of pastries: almond croissants, fruit flans, custard tarts, nenish tarts – all from my favourite bakery. I sit down to an applause, tearful hugs and funny jokes. Eating time!

Mid morning – the kids pack away the kitchen, wash up and get themselves dressed – teeth and all! I meander to the closet and look through a ginormous amount of awesome options. The hardest thing about this is deciding which incredible thing I’m going to wear. “Swimmers!” I declare and then walk out to my new and fabulous deck outside and go for a swim in my funky pool at the perfect temperature. It has a beautiful white canopy above that blocks out all the nasty rays which means no need for suncream! Delightful. The kids join me and we soon hop on our pool boats and have a race. More laughing.

image by Nehrams2020

Post pool fun – Then we all get dressed, their dad takes them to a fun park place and hands me a golden credit card, no platinum (whatever is better) and says, “go shopping and buy whatever you like”. Delightful! I ring up my bestie and off we go to the dream mall. I get a parking spot right near the door and spend the next two hours finding endless amounts of bargains, clothes, toys for the kids and a present for the hubby. We stop for lunch and order heaps of fresh king prawns with a glass of white wine. We drag ourselves back to the car, part ways and I head back home.

Afternoon time – I arrive home to see my house sparkling. The kids have their smiles plastered on their faces, still. They have been baking with daddy. They have decided to have a high tea with my closest friends. All the food is prepared and the garden is set out with quaint tables with multi-leveled cake holders filled with delectables. I get dressed up in my favourite beautiful dress and greet my friends as they arrive. For some reason, they’ve brought presents for me. It’s not my birthday but OK, sure (I love presents!). Everyone is buzzing, having a great time.

Evening – The air outside is still warm. My closest friends hang around for an early afternoon bbq with their kids. Back we splash into the pool as a massive game of ‘marco polo’ gets underway. The sun sets, the lanterns and fairy lights in the trees are lit and we drip back into the house and get dressed. Prawns and lobster and crab and fun food are on the menu for dinner. We sit around outside and drink in the balmy night. We sip white wine (and beer for those who want it!) and natter about life and deep stuff that really matters.

Night time – The kids are so tired they crash on the floor of our spacious lounge room while us ‘adults’ stay up to the wee hours singing silly songs and nattering. There’s much laughter and everyone feels comfortable in their own skin. Eventually my pals scoop up their sleeping, slobbering kids and return to their own homes. I watch a couple of episodes of fun tv on dvd and then retire myself. My head hits the pillow and off I go to dreamland, a little disappointed as my dreams never match up to reality.

What would be your perfect day?

image by ReubenInStt

There’s a part of me that longs for the days of lollie bags; the kid days. When you ‘grow up’ you begin to miss out on sweetness. Adults don’t get lollie bags at the end of parties because they can buy all the lollies they want. But what’s fun about that?

Playing Barbies loses its appeal and lego becomes frustrating, especially when all the pieces aren’t there. The sweetness of play morphs into something more complex. As kids become adults, they move into mature, responsible, sensible thinking. To be silly is to be immature and unsophisticated.

For those stuck between childhood and the adult world, this can be disconcerting. Kidhood is FUN! No work, all play. There’s early to bed, but really, what’s wrong with that? There’s “eat your veges” and “do your homework”; bliss!!! Learning new things = excitement (for those stuck in the hum drum adult tick tock routine). And veges! Well all you Masterchef viewers know what grown ups can do with veges, salt and a dash of white wine.

To the adult clinging onto those sunny childhood days, what do we say? Grow up? Let it go? How about using grown up freedom for good? Cook someĀ  delicious food, go to bed early and make play your work (as long as it pays the bills). Why put up with a serious life when there’s so much living to be had? Or stay up late, eat all the lollies you want and sleep in while you can.

Young inside!

Growing old is only a surface condition. Dealing with the serious stuff doesn’t have to consume lives. Paint a mural, read a fun book and hang out with funny people. Be young on the inside while your hair fades to white, while your teeth fail and your brain slows down. You’ll end up back to the beginning in the end, so why not enjoy the ride?

Supersize my time, supersize my energy, my wardrobe, my money, my patience, my motivation, my skills. Supersize my brain, my home, my birthday, my compassion. Please may I supersize my successes, my hair length, my friendships, my outlook. Supersize my jokes, anecdotes and listening ears! Supersize my fitness and dvd collection and relationships and integrity.

Downsize my debt, my selfishness, my waiting, my nasal hair, my bossiness, my shoe size, my fears, my silliness and my backyard ticks! Downsize whinges, silly talk, mutterings and grrrrrs. The unspoken, the rude, the failures, the burnt food.

Chuck out the bad, hang onto the good and roll with what comes your way.