Yoga

As you can tell by the infrequent postings, life has gotten busier than the usual break-neck busy. Between school volunteering (Yay, I'm a real volunteer mom now!), kids' conferences, Marine Corps Ball, Book Club, and all the things a mom has to do to keep her brood healthy, this little blog has been sitting here silent.

Today I'm grateful for a slow morning so we can catch up.

Wanna see USMC Ball pics?

Outtakes:

This year's ball was much different from last year's ball. There was less of a party atmosphere and more of a serious feel with all the attendees being from Command and Staff College. I think when people study together it doesn't exactly build the same camaraderie as when they work and/or save lives together. We still had a great time and I met two beautiful ladies with whom I talked politics (one was a former lobbyist) and the other Special Education while we gawked at all the red carpet gowns before us.

I was even the veteran wife who never once saw her Marine and didn't pout. After bumping into another wife who stood broiling in a corner, madly texting her husband to find him, it all came rushing back. Ah, I remember those days. When you thought that song was about you.

"Just think of it as a big fraternity party." I offered knowing it was pittance. She was exquisite in her royal blue gown. Her hair had been carefully twisted and tucked into place, a small row of sparkling flowers holding it all together like a promise.

"Well, yeah. But this is my first ball and..." She didn't need to finish. I remember.

What I wanted to say is that it's not about your pretty hair or your fancy shoes. It's not even about how fierce your arms look in your strapless gown.(She did bring her guns out, I tried not to envy). This night is about honoring those men and women in the service who have given their time, sweat, tears, and sometimes lives for freedom. This night is to stand honorably before them and give thanks for the job they do when the rest of us sleep on our soft pillows at night. It's what I wanted to say but didn't because I remember. I remember when I thought it was a date night, too.

Thankfully, her husband turned the corner after a few minutes and I excused myself quickly in hopes they could reconcile because Pretty Mama was miffed.

Andy and I found each other an hour or so later and headed down to the bar to say goodbye to his mates and my new former lobbyist friend.

"Come to yoga with me," she sad.

"Yes. I love yoga," I lied. Grayson and Abby taught me cat and cow position from their preschool. That and downward dog are the only things in the world I know about yoga.

"Great. Here's the address, you will love it. Now, what are you drinking? Is that a Sprite?"

And we chatted for the next hour about brothers, Nancy Pelosi, chihuahuas, Schipperkes, and adoption. We bonded over her red wine and my second Sprite (I still managed to say inappropriate things to a group of lovely spouses and shatter a wineglass with my purse).

And now I have a yoga class to attend somewhere in D.C. with a girl who may or may not remember we became besties at the bar.

Maybe I should text her first.