Music has always been a HUGE part of our family. Since the kids were itty bitty, we’ve regularly held dance parties right here in our very own family room, shaking our tail feathers until they damn near fell off. I guess we just can’t help but feel the beat when it hits us, no matter where we might be. And sometimes, well, we just have to dance like nobody’s watchin’:
Have you ever driven by a particular building in your town fifty bazillion times and wondered what on earth goes on in there? Well, there’s a Russian restaurant/banquet hall not more than two or three miles from my house that has baffled me for years. I’ve never seen a single soul going in or out of there, yet the parking lot is always jam-packed with cars. So about a month ago, some friends of ours decided that we should get a big group together and plan a January outing to go and check it out. And holy vodka shots, was it ever an experience!
When we checked into the reception desk on Saturday night, we were escorted through the deceptively large restaurant all the way to the back of the building, where we found yet another massively-sized room. The woman lifted back the red velvet curtain covering the door to unveil one of the most elegantly gaudy dining halls I think I’ve ever seen in my life. There were chandeliers and disco balls and flaming candles and murals and floral arrangements everywhere. A whole fleet of waiters shuffled here and there with silver trays and crystal glassware. A large dance floor stood smack dab in the middle of the large room with a curtained platform as its backdrop. I found myself wondering if the wizard was hiding behind that curtain because I truly felt like I’d just entered a secret underground society. Every table was filled with people who were dressed in their very finest duds — we’re talking high heels and sequins and prom dresses galore. And they all seemed to know each other too! They were hugging and cheek kissing and laughing up a storm. It was definitely a party-like atmosphere, and I knew we were in for a good time.
We started off our meal with a vodka shot cause when in Rome… (or in this case, Russia). We had just started to dig into our hors devours when the curtained backdrop behind the dance floor opened up to reveal a live band that spoke nothing but Russian. Now, granted, not a single one of us speaks a lick of Russian, but from what we could gather, there were numerous birthday celebrations in the house. Several huge parties of people were called to the dance floor, while multiple bouquets of roses were rushed out to pose with them for a group photo. Then everyone cheered wildly as a ginormous teddy bear was placed front and center of the group. (Cue the Twilight Zone music.)
I honestly had no flipping clue what the hell was going on, but I clapped right along with the rest of them since it seemed to be the thing to do. Everyone was then invited to cut a rug, and the dance floor was suddenly packed with shaking booties. Song after song was played by the band, and the only one I even remotely recognized was “Poker Face” by Lady Gaga. Nevertheless, we danced our Grey Gooses off the rest of the night. My husband found himself a sixty year old honey who was decked out in turquoise sequins to twirl all over the floor, and I made my way into some kind of alternative-looking conga line. It was like a Russian version of The Wedding Singer, and we had an absolute ball.
By the end of the night, I had red lipstick marks on my cheeks from my new Russian dance partner, my husband was so drenched with sweat that he’d stuffed his undershirt in his coat pocket, and our whole group was three sheets to the wind from one too many tilts of the old bottle. It was definitely unlike most of my normal Saturday night activities. Who knew that this whole other world existed just a mere distance from my house?
Phew! What a whirlwind of a weekend. Between our adults-only Halloween party on Friday night and trick-or-treating on Saturday night, I am absolutely zapped. There was dancing, there was drinking, there was tricking, and there was treating. So, I thought I’d give you a recap of all the fun-filled festivities.
The Halloween party was a total blast with a lively group of people who were ready to let loose. Throw a DJ into a room full of stressed out parents, and you’ve got yourself one hell of a dance party! And their costumes were A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! The prize winners of the “Best Couple” costume had literally turned themselves into Fed Ex packages from head to toe. I’m sure they’ve been celebrating their victory in their edible underwear all weekend long. The “Best Male” costume prize went to a guy who was dressed as the cop from Reno 911. He had the super tight short shorts, the mustache and everything. The “Best Female” prize went to a girl who was dressed as Princess Leia (every guy’s secret fantasy). The “Most Inappropriate Couple” were hilarious — the wife was dressed as a margarita and the husband was a breathalizer with a “Blow Here” tube placed ever so conveniently in his crotch area. And the grand prize of the night (the blow-up doll named Big Bertha) went to a guy dressed like a hippy who must’ve dirty danced with every wife there. He worked that room like it was his job, even busting out into the splits in the middle of the dance floor. And when he was awarded the top prize of the night, he most certainly didn’t disappoint. He blew Bertha up right there on the spot and posed for all the cameras that were flashing. His wife just stood back and rolled her eyes and laughed at his “acceptance speech”, but I’m sure she will be thrilled to have a stand-in for those nights when she’s “got a headache.”
We ended up staying at the bar so late that we were hanging out with the bartenders by the end of the night. We finally decided to walk home with me wearing my husband’s stupid neon orange tuxedo jacket (he and another husband dressed as Dumb and Dumber). I’m sure we looked ridiculous as hell to anyone who happened to be out at that hour. I’d lost my corsage, my crown and the flowers in my hair and had somehow acquired someone’s mustache in my purse. We didn’t care though cause we’d had an unbelievable amount of fun dancing our asses off with all our friends. And it seemed that the other party-goers shared that same sentiment when I saw them out and about trick-or-treating the next night. Let’s just say that there were a LOT of hungover parents tagging behind their little ones in the neighborhood on Saturday.
Regardless of how bad we felt on the inside, we had to just put on a happy face and try to forget about that jackhammer pounding away in our heads cause our kids were on a mission for candy. It was hard to dwell on a hangover too, since our neighborhood is so much fun on Halloween. Spooky music was blaring on nearly every block, and kids were running everywhere. Many houses were passing out wine and beer (including ours) to the adults, although I chose to stay away from all things alcohol that night. My kids got so much candy that they had to stop by home and pick up another empty bucket. When my husband took them out to their last block, they ran into some rather strange give-aways. One lady was handing out scarves, neck ties and bracelets, which totally blew my kids’ minds. Then another lady was apparently handing out 2-liter bottles of pop. What the hell?! I don’t know if they ran out of candy or what, but if you ask me, they were totally asking to get egged. When it was all said and done, we had four buckets full of sugar and two very happy trick-or-treaters.
I ate so many KitKats and Twix bars over the next two days that I now feel sick. And the kids have already started in with asking me for candy before breakfast. I’ll allow this madness to continue for a couple more days, and then I’m shipping it all off with my husband to work. The Halloween frenzy has come to an end, and I’m already counting down the days till next year when I can justifiably dress up like an idiot once again.
Filed under: mom blog, mom trying to stay sane blog | Tagged: candy, costume, dancing, DJ, family, Halloween, hangover, kids, moms, motherhood, parenting, parents, party, trick or treating | 11 Comments »
Last night, my husband and the kids and I rode our bikes over to watch a little outdoor kids’ concert on the lawn of our library. Families were encouraged to bring over a blanket and a picnic dinner to listen to some fun, interactive tunes. I honestly had no idea what to expect and really didn’t have that high of hopes. I mean, how good could a FREE concert at the library really be? And, thank God I didn’t get too jazzed up about it, because it was one of those ear-screeching experiences that I couldn’t wait to end.
After gulping down our dinner, the kids were ready to boogy and get crazy. Some of their friends had also shown up, which only added more fuel to their already hyper fire. At first the singer was very lively, encouraging all the kids to join in with the hand motions to the songs and even to dance if they wanted. There were a decent amount of people in attendance, so my kids and their buddies decided to dance their way on up to the front. They parked themselves front and center and truly had the time of their lives. They were jumping up and down and laughing and singing — all things you would think would be flattering to the performer, right? Well, not this lady. She actually used the freaking microphone to ask them to sit down so that other kids could see! Did I mention that this was a very informal outdoor KIDS’ CONCERT??!! And do you recall that she did, in fact, invite the kids to join in??!! I was thoroughly confused, as were the kids.
From that point on, the whole mood of the concert changed. She started singing really dark, loud songs about whining kids and temper tantrums. It was literally almost as if she was yelling at us. Everyone just kinda sat there and stared at her in awe. I think I only saw one kid toward the back of the crowd who was up and dancing, and that was only because he was too little to know any better. The singer had managed to turn the whole thing into a major buzz kill. She must’ve eventually picked up on this, because she then went into a whole “kumbaya” theme. Hands were swaying, and there was talk of love and peace and rainbows. I felt like I was at Woodstock for kids and was wondering when someone was gonna start passing around pixie sticks instead of joints. Were we supposed to get naked and roll around in the mud, too? It was all just a little too hokey for me.
All in all, the kids ended up having a good time, because, seriously, what do they know? Did it really even phase them one bit that they were told to sit down and be duds? No. Did they care that they had just sat through a shrieking medley of sappy “one love” songs by a slightly off-tune performer? No. They’re kids, and they know how to put the fun into just about anything. Next time, I’ll remember to put my own fun into it by bringing some “adult” beverages with me….
Filed under: mom blog, mom trying to stay sane blog | Tagged: concerts, dancing, family, kids, kids' concerts, kumbaya, love, moms, motherhood, parenting, peace, performer, woodstock | Leave a Comment »