Last Night

The girls and I drove to the far edges of the earth to a city called Laguna Woods. We attended the baby naming ceremony/welcome to the family party of my childhood friend's brand new daughter and her brand new nephew.

Laughter, talking, and music were all around us as we sat at Ekua's and Quentin's table with some of their other friends. After the girls finished eating, the infectious music got to them and showing a bravery and courage I have never possessed Rowan got out of her seat and decided to dance; Layla followed suit. I wasn't sure the area in front of our table was actually suppose to be a dance floor, but the girls didn't care and I let them be. The joy on their faces as they danced together on their impromptu dance floor was indescribable. They happily boogied all by their lonesome though a four-year-old girl at our table kept eyeing them.

They danced and chased each other in their matching blue, white, and yellow Children's Place dresses with blue ribbons adding the right oomph to their ponytails. Rowan loved spinning around in circles so her dress could twirl all around her. They laughed and talked in a language all their own, until an expectant father from our table decided to join them on the dance floor. The girls were ecstatic to have someone else to dance with or rather someone to dance around. And finally the other little girl at our table joined them on the dance floor with her dad. Three beautiful girls having a great time.

I watched my two girls and felt such joy. Joy that they were two brilliant girls, who rarely meet a stranger, having the time of their lives and I was their mother. Their bliss made up for the nine billion trips to the bathroom.

"Bathroom, Mommy," Layla would say.

We'd go, she'd tinkle and claim she was finished. Toilet flushed, hands washed and dried, paper towel thrown away, the walk to the other side of the hall to get our table, settling back into our chairs to hear, "Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom," from Rowan three minutes later. Repeat pattern. Repeat pattern. Even if I had wanted to have a real conversation with anyone at the table, the girls made sure I didn't and couldn't.

I'm glad they haven't inherited my shyness around strangers, where I use my kids as shields to not engage in conversations or make ugh! chit chat. I don't do small talk well. It always makes me feel uncomfortable and awkward. Now if I know I have something in common with someone I'm Chatty Cathy, but if I'm not sure I am as quiet as a church mouse.

I hope the girls are always outgoing, willing to be trailblazers, and do the things no one else will do. As I've learned through swimming lessons, Miss Rowan definitely won't be one following the crowds. But that's a story for another day.

I've been blessed with a pair of awesome Irish twins.