The Party, The Recovery, and the Run

It’s not often that Momarock gets to go out. I know, I know. I’m not the only one, right? One of the job descriptions as a parent often involves hanging up those dancin’ shoes, replacing them with more sensible ones. We always have the best of intentions, initially. Motherhood won’t change ME. It always does though, and I’m not complaining. I love my boys. Still, I remember those days…. you know the ones. Dressing up for a night out with your closest friends, dancing the night away. Drinks were plenty, and if you arrived home in the early morning hours, no one cared. You slept in until the noon hour, sometimes sporting a hangover. Let’s be honest, OFTEN you would have a hangover. It’s not so much the experience, but what the experience represented: YOUTH.

So, when my BFF invited me to see a live band with her on Friday- how could I refuse?

Since most of my friends are mommies, like me, it’s not often I have the chance to go out, or even feel the urge to go out. Kids have a way of sucking the life force out of you, and the last thing on my mind at the end of a long day is going out. However, my BFF has one of those energetic personalities, and it rubs off on me.  She told me how great this band was, and so I was all for it. Plus, the band would be playing on a boat, which would set sail for a couple of hours around the Missouri River. Again, how could I refuse! Here we are, before we headed out on our exciting night. I just love this girl! She has two gorgeous daughters, one a teenager, the other in her early 20’s. Notice my attire. I called myself “Sporty Spice” that night, because for me, this is what I wear when I go out. And you see the Chucks on my feet? Those are my “dancin’ shoes”.

jandshotWe started off at a trendy little restaurant, Mantra. I’d never been there before, and I was impressed with the food. I think I was more impressed with the fact that I was sitting with other grown-ups, having adult conversation without a child interrupting or some impending melt down on the horizon. It was a great way to start the night. After that, we drove to downtown Omaha, hitting up the River City Star, so we could see the Kris Lager Band. My BFF had been talking about this band for ages, and everything she’d said was dead on. What a great band! The music is upbeat, positive, sweet, and sexy, all rolled into one. I could hear jazz, blues, some Southern twang, but the best was when someone in the band rapped a little! I mean, you get everything with this band! Aside from the band, what really made the night were the attendees. Everyone was friendly, and you could tell just how much they were enjoying themselves. It was a sold out show, and everyone was squeezed in together on the boat, and none of us cared!

Of course, I danced. I love to dance. So does my BFF, so we found ourselves at the front of the crowd, soaking up the band’s ambiance. We met some incredible people- and yes, I had an admirer (maybe two). I won’t lie and say it wasn’t flattering to this 35-year old mom. I could say something like, “it must have been the lighting”, or “these young guys have a Mrs. Robinson complex”, but I’ll just take it for what it’s worth. After the boat docked, we went into downtown Omaha, hitting up a couple of bars. It was so crowded! Who knew that downtown was still hopping well past midnight? It’s been years since I’ve experienced being one of the last ones to leave a venue, you know? I didn’t even get home until 3am, after my entourage stopped at a 24-hour Mexican restaurant; we wolfed down the steak tacos, believe you me.

Of course, the kids were up at 7am. That meant I was up at 7am. Saturday was a very rough day. My husband said I smelled like a chimney (one of those bars was a cigar bar). My stomach was unhappy with the watermelon drinks I’d enjoyed on the boat. Really, Friday was more than worth it, but Saturday was a grim reminder of why I’d ever hung up my dancin’ shoes.

Sunday I managed to lace up my Brooks, heading for Halleck Park. My husband and I made plans to meet there with the boys, so I turned on my Garmin watch and made my way. It was the best. I didn’t even check my watch until mile 6, in awe that I’d even gone that far with no notice of it. My breathing was steady and slow, my pace a 10-minute mile, no pushing myself. After passing the baseball diamond near the park, I checked my watch again. 9.16 miles. I decided to stop, landing at one hour, 34 minutes (1:34) for my time. Not bad. I walked off the running path, and landed on the road instead, leading me towards the geese pond, or as my toddler calls them, “baby ducks”. I could see my husband in the distance, with the two boys playing around him. I smiled to myself, and looked down at my Brooks. They’re not my “dancin’ shoes”. I’m okay with that. My Chucks are hung up, but they’ll come out to play on occasion.

My toddler spots me, and he runs towards me, arms open wide. He’s coming in for a landing, and I squat down, enveloping him.

Yep. I’m totally okay with this.

My biggest supporters- my husband and our two boys



2 thoughts on “The Party, The Recovery, and the Run”

  1. I have few words to add or than I love you and your family! Thank you all, you are such a blessing in my life!
    You are a very lucky woman to have the best husband, and two wonderful boys! And I’m very blessed to have you all in my life. Thank you!

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