By Nici Holt Cline
I had planned to write my mama digs column late Sunday night. Instead I held a wide stance and deeply bent knees, my arms and hips flailed purposefully to beats of Tupac and Ice Cube. I wasn’t in a city, at a club or a concert. I was shaking my booty with a bunch of white people in a barn in south central Montana.
Last week we traveled to Red Lodge for our friends’ wedding. It was an exciting one because my husband and I have deep histories with both the bride and groom. So in addition to the wedding there was this big friend and family reunion, days of hikes, bike rides, beer and hugs. And lots of meeting and reacquainting with the new generation of humans our people have created. I heard a rumor that there were 30 kids at the wedding. I believe it.
Parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends bounced and rocked kids through the several day gathering. We took turns singing to the babies and locating the toddlers. Has anyone seen my kid lately? It didn’t matter whose child had fallen or needed to wash her hands, the closest adult was responsible and willing. I think I could happily live on a commune. As long as adult-only hip hop dance parties were part of the deal.
As the wedding night darkened and kids fell like pick up sticks all about the reception, a mob of bouncing thirty-somethings gained enthusiasm. Ruby was asleep on Andy’s back and Margot in her grandma’s arms. My non-dancing husband was dancing with a giant grin and I was headed home with our daughters when I realized I could lay my sleeping babes in their grandma’s house and return…I knew I’d perhaps regret the big idea when I had to wake and sooth Ruby at 4am or that I’d most likely be a bit foggy on the long drive home in our once-big station wagon that now feels like a Shriner car what with the animals, children, adults, recreational equipment, coffee cups, fruit leathers (I want a minivan).
But even though I knew in my bones I don’t have the recovery or fancy free-ness of a 23 year-old, I also knew in my bones that this 32 year-old needed to swing dance to Billie Jean until breathless. So that’s what I did.
I, with help from my village, carried my sleeping babes in their party dresses through the windy, dark 45-degree air to the car and I miraculously carried both both by myself into the house. I slipped Margot into her grandma’s bed, her face painted with chocolate icing. Night mama she whispered. I wrapped, nursed and kissed Ruby. I thanked my mother-in-law and sister-in-law, changed into jeans and flat shoes, threw on some red lipstick and headed back to that barn for some roof-raising.
The crowd had thinned and it was my husband’s childhood friends and their partners who remained. We danced. Marge knew all the words to Snoop, Molly did the robot. Jason hung from the rafters, Paul grabbed the mic and rapped. I split Joey’s lip right open in a passionate spin. Ryan got gangsta and Maggie got down. Andy felt NWA and Ben did the pretzel. At one point we all huddled around the newlywed Charlotte and Brad and hugged and jumped.
I was moved by the scene because of the confidence we all have now. Even though we had kids at home and early wake up calls the next day, even though we had important jobs to get home to and older knees that might ache from getting so low and shakin’ our junk in the trunk, it was way, way better than those late nights in our twenties. Nobody trying to impress anyone else or get lucky with anyone other than their spouse. No insecurity in dancing, only feeling so wonderfully alive.
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A fourth generation Montanan raising a fifth, Nici Holt Cline is a mama to Margot and Ruby, wife, gardener, crafter and runner who loves to write and take photos. She writes regularly on her popular blog dig this chick. You can read “Mama Digs” every Monday exclusively at www.mamalode.com. Read more of Nici’s mamalode articles here.
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I love this post. All so true and I feel happy to have been a part of and a witness to the show. What a fun filled weekend. Such a wonderful bunch of friends that will be just that forever. I have to admit I would have loved to see Joey and the split lip scene but I was tucked in next to Margot Bea and her frosting covered face, a lovely place to be.
A BIG smile on my face…..never too old to rock n’ roll especially with favorite people!
A great visual….”kids fell like pick up sticks all about the reception”.
Thanks for the mama digs fix!
xoxo
That’s the best description of the wedding reception I’ve heard so far!
Amen! Being in your thirties is so much better!
Love the last paragraph. SO TRUE! -from a fellow 32 yr old.