39 Is Gonna Be Fine

So, my husband calls me URGENTLY on Friday and tells me that I must call Visa immediately, as it appears my credit card has been frauded. Visa was unable to reach me at home and they needed to verify suspicious transactions. He gives me the number to call ASAP and tells me to ask for Nelly.

I hang up the phone while en route home from carpool and call the number. I ask for Nelly as told, and proceed to ask, “What happened to my credit card?”

Then, a chuckle on the other line, “Is this the birthday girl?!” she laughs.

“Yesssss,” I proceed to say smiling.

She continues sweetly, “So, your husband knows that you’ve wanted to go dancing with him for years but he’s finally beefed up the courage to salsa, tango and cha cha with you. He didn’t want to choose the wrong package, so I have strict instructions to give you the options, and you must choose.”

Oh, he didn’t forget that today is my birthday. And he didn’t forget that I have begged him for years to go Dancing With The Stars with me. Good job. Brownie points to you, buddy!

After going through the options with Nelly, I opted for the “ease into things with the hubby” package. Six sessions which include: two privates to start, then two group dances (as in… with other people, holy sh*t), and then 2 Friday night, 10pm, lights out, free dances. Whoa!

Nelly told me what to expect– that it will be hard at first, but that we’ll love it. She asked me if I have any dance experience. I told her I danced ballet for 20 years and taught as well, “That will be very helpful for you, Erica. How is your husband?”

“Not very good,” I replied.

“You’re going to love it,” Nelly said. “I’ll work with you both and get you dancing in no time.”

I honestly couldn’t be more excited. I live for music (as most of you know), and I’m always the annoying one who begs to go dancing (something we never do unless we’re at a wedding). I have blogged many times about my desire to go out and just DANCE! Here it went:

“Sometimes, I get the urge to dance. Like TOTALLY dance. Like the neat and proper, fundraising, PTA meeting mom that I am… just toss it out the window. Like I wanna put on a very short dress (I never do, despite being 5’8” and in pretty decent shape), heels, and have my hubby see me as someone other than the mud-masked bathrobe momma that I am 9/10 times. To have him see me as the hot sexy momma I could be, and dance the night away to my favorite music. With no one to wake me at 6am. And feel no guilt. And I’m on the fence if this makes me bad, or just normal.

And I admit, sometimes, that I get lost in the whole role as mom. When I decided to be a wife and mother, did I trade in my dancing shoes for suburbia? I mean, can’t we have both? Can’t we BE both? As moms, does all sexy have to go out the window? But in truth, how much time for sexy is there with carpool, homework, a career, dinner preparation, night wake-ups, and running around? I think as women, as moms, we are “supposed” to wear all the hats – domestic diva, nurturing mom, career woman, loving wife, sexy wife, but I think too often the “nurturing” takes precedence over all of it. I am guilty of it. And in all actuality, all this reckless abandon I am speaking off, NEVER HAPPENS. I have big plans, and always end up in bed with my night cream at 9PM.  My sexy side usually falls by the waist-side by the end of the day.”

But not this year, baby. We start our first private session next week. I’m counting down the days. I’m pretty sure the husband is not 😉 We’ll either end up in the sack afterwards, or divorced. Not sure which.

I’ll keep you posted.

I turn 39 today. I’ve got one more year left to party hard. I intend on tangoing my way through it.

Happy Monday, beauties. And to my fellow Quebecers, don’t you dare forget to GET OUT AND VOTE!

Love,