I just wanna dance.

I am not a dancer. Gracefulness is not my forte. But, I confess, I'll make a fool of myself six ways to Sunday if it means my hiney will look better in my blue jeans.

This is the blog post where I finally tell you about my love affair with my exercise class.

The first time I ever heard of Zumba was when my friend, J, invited me to try it with her at the club sometime. Henry was 9 months old, I was feeling pretty good about myself, and I'm pretty sure I laughed out loud and politely declined the invitation.

Fast-forward one year.

I'm sitting in my living room with a 1- and 21-month old, I'm getting approximately 1 hour of sleep per day (no, that is not an exaggeration), a perpetual state of overwhelmed has settled in, and my hiney may or may not be looking pretty out-of-control in my blue jeans. Everybody's hiney looks this way 1-month pp, I realize.

The idea of a group fitness class seemed like a good one to me at this point. On every level, I thought I could benefit from that type of set-up. So, I set my mind to finding a group fitness sort of thing as soon as I got the 'clear' from my doc. At six weeks, I got my go-ahead, but truthfully, I didn't feel like my body was ready. Specifically, my c-sec left me feeling pretty fragile, so I decided to start looking into it as soon as I could do a crunch without feeling like I was going to pull something. It took about 3 more weeks.

My mom and I signed up for the gym together. We decided to do the Zumba class together. We looked like idiots for the better part of three weeks together. I almost fell down trying to shimmy my shoulders one time. Not from laughing, people...from lack of coordination. It was seriously the most ridiculously awkward fun I've ever had, and like many things in my life, I can honestly say that having my mom there is what got me through. After those agonizing three weeks, we stopped tripping over our feet and started getting the hang of some of the routines.

At this point, I've been going to Zumba for about 11 months, and I am proud to say that's the longest I've ever stuck with any voluntary exercise program. I go for the fun of being there. I go for the friendships I've made with the women in my class. These ladies are wonderful and downright inspiring! I go because my instructor may be the most uplifting person I've ever met. I go for the sanity break from my long days in Toddlerville. I go because I love the little belly-dancer skirt you get to wear over your boring workout clothes. And, you know what, I'm not gonna lie, I go because the hiney isn't lookin' too bad in blue jeans these days at all...if I do say so myself.

So, ladies (and gents, if there are any reading), if you're looking for a totally do-able exercise program...if you are needing to 'get out' for a little time for yourself a few hours a week...if you like to shake what your mama gave ya (come on...you remember college, don't you?!)...if you need a little setsy in your world of stinky (diapers, that is), go find a Zumba class. If you live by me, come with me to mine. Skirts are provided at the door. Trust me...you want to ditch the workout and join this party.

Note to preggy friend who is not public yet: I'm so sorry my first blog post after you reminded me to update my blog is about fitness!! I've just been meaning to hit publish for awhile. You, dear, should not worry your pretty little head with any of this. No, you should only eat whatever makes you feel good, exercise whenever you feel like it (or never if you don't), and proudly flip off anyone rockin' a hot body for the next 9 months (give or take 6-12). Love you and congratulations, again!!