Zumba Mama!

Please don't mock me a la Elaine Benes at Zumba. I will get it...eventually. This white girl's got rhythm!

I’ve discovered a little more about myself the past couple of days. I like jumping around in a circle while fist-pumping to a Latin beat. A lot. And throwing some air punches after a long day in the Mommy Hood is positively intoxicating. Who needs Mommyjuice when you’ve got Zumba?

Okay, I do. I am not that carried away…but, Zumba addicts, I get it! Turns out I am a really late guest to a fun party! That’s not like me at all.

I’ve gone twice in two days, and have plans for Sunday morning. Yes, I am still the girl in the back with a big T-shirt and leggings with the spaghetti sauce stain on her sneakers trying to follow along without looking like Elaine Benes from Seinfeld, but I’ve made progress. Now I am not directly hiding behind the person in front of me. I take a peek during certain counts-of-eight to see if my hips don’t lie. And to ensure the class is not being recorded. Nothing could be funnier fodder for YouTube than a beginner’s Zumba class.

This will be a drawing of me. I have faith (and an affinity for Mommyjuice). : )

Thankfully, this white girl who does have rhythm once she knows what the hell she’s doing (I had to ditch the sunglasses to better follow along so please be kind if you see me in class!) discovered a workout I actually like just in time. It’s been 80-plus degrees in Boston the past few days…complete and utter March madness. I usually have a month or two longer to hide behind cozy sweaters, face bronzer, and excuses, but I’ve already had to struggle into capris that showcase blaringly white ankles (don’t worry I am not sportin’ cankles…but I do need to lose a few and make an appointment for a sunless glow before summer).

Zumba addicts, I have a few questions: How long did it take before you started shaking your moneymaker in the front of the class? Weeks? Months? Or are you still hiding? And how long until I see some results? The ship has sailed for me in terms of blaming my almost-two-year-old for my “She must live on pizza; look at her sneakers!” less-than-desirable abs.

Special thanks to my new fab hairdresser Paola for turning me on to Zumba. And, if you’re still reading, give this white girl a break and click the brown box at the top of your screen. Yeah, the one that says “Top Mommy Blogs”…that’s the one. Go ahead and click it. You know you want to. Happy Friday!

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