Jumping like a frog

O.K., if I wasn’t motivated before to be healthy and stronger physically, all it took was a dance class, or specifically a “creative movement” class with my two-year-old. She had no problem jumping like a frog, her little muscles pulling and pushing, her knees and hips limber and she propelled (O.K. she barely got off the ground but she’s just learning) herself into the air and then dropped into a squat, fingers on the floor in front as though they were the tiny front legs of a frog.

Now, arthritis or not, a dance class of any kind, is the last thing on the list of things I hope to do before I die. Honestly, it’s not even on the list. But, my daughter loves to dance, so in an effort to do this parenting thing well, I signed her up. She squeals and hops and claps. I try to keep up -- when I’m not willing the second hand to move faster around the clock. But I want to do better and true, I also wouldn’t mind out-hopping a couple of the other more athletic mothers who seem to bound around the room like frogs preparing for the Olympic team.

These last four months I have talked about making healthy changes so that I can be a greater participant in my daughter’s life. This week I deeply connected with that premise. I’m not a good frog. My bunny isn’t bad (they don’t have to get as low to the ground) , but I’m not limber enough, or strong enough to jump around the gym without a few breaks. I could be, though. And I know I’m getting there. So, these little lifestyle changes that are helping me to lose weight and feel better are also part of a larger goal, now, to become the best mama frog in the bunch. Ribbet.