As I reluctantly got out of bed this morning, I immediately regretted last night. In my celebratory mood for finishing grading, I decided–since both of my kids were gone for the night–to go downtown with a friend to get a drink. We were having so much fun that I neglected my usual one drink rule (really, it’s not a rule; it’s just a smart way to drink when you have kids), and consumed many more drinks. I had fun, said somethings I probably shouldn’t have (nothing bad. Believe me, I’ve basically been Pollyanna for the last three years), embarrassed myself a bit, and then crawled into bed at around 1a.m.
Suffice to say, this morning my head hurt, my pride was a bit bruised, and I was feeling sluggish. I did not feel like doing anything. I did not want to grade (still have another school to catch up grading for), I did not want to play with Luke, I did not want to teach, and I definitely did not want to go to music participation class.
But I forced myself to. And once I stepped into the building and saw all the excited, dancing kids, my whole mood changed. My son, though always a little nervous being around so many other kids, was still excited to have his mama sing to him. I saw some friends and chatted about life. I watched two year olds shake their booties.
I perked right up, I had fun, and my whole attitude changed for the day. My smile came back, my pride increased, and my love for Raffi returned. I played with Luke when I got home, I finished grading a few essays, and I taught with enthusiasm and confidence.
Today, I am thankful for music participation and the transformative power of little kids grooving in their own uncomplicated, simple, and happy little world.