Who is bumping music at 9 in the morning?

 I have two really small cars with two humongous car seats. I drive my Nissan Cube most days, the Beetle is my "fun car" (only because it has a sunroof).  The Cube has led lights just about everywhere in it; cup holders, floor boards, the dash...It's mostly a disco club. You can change the lights to fit your mood, you have 20 colors to choose from. Most people think the car is u-g-l-y and it ain't got no alibi but that's what I like about it.

All that is beyond the point of this blog. I dropped the kids off at daycare, driving to work and I am at a stop light. Normal morning. Then I noticed I could hear a car "bumping". I look around for the stereotypical Neon, Civic, or beater car with a fart pipe on it. I was in a sea of minivans and guys wearing suits in SUVs. I am thinking to myself "What a moron. It's 9 in the morning. Who is bumping music at 9 in the morning?" Light turns green and the cars roll out. I notice the music keeps following me. I look around and nothing. No one is car dancing, no one is mouthing along to a song, nothing. Then my jam comes on. I always change the play list as soon as I get back in the car from dropping the girls off. One time Wendolyn starting singing "lolli lolli pop that body" I realized it is time to start censoring. The bass line kicks in and BAM. I realize I am the moron bumping my music at 9 in the morning. Holy Jesus.

Should I be embarrassed? Should I turn it down? OMG, can they see the car seats? I'm such a loser. But it's my song. I love this song. &^%* it. Turn it up.

That's when the club starts. Totally inappropriate songs about hooking up, getting drunk and the occasional use of illegal drugs. I pretend my coffee cup is my martini glass and car dance my ass off. This is not "mommy" of me at all. Not that I am a typical soccer mom by any means of the imagination. I feel like I should be more adult and listen to more Jewel and Jack Johnson (I do love that kind of music too) however, this mama likes a little gansta rap too. Nicki Manaj starts and I am right there with her. I'm going after it at this point. Screw you Dodge Caravan, I see you looking at me. Now I am throwing up hand signs that I have no clue what they mean. Okay, I've gone too far. Tone it down.

I know that if I was that poor lady in a minivan (my heart goes out to all the drive a minivan) I would be calling myself an idiot and making fun of myself. I didn't care. How happy I was and the mood it made me in was so worth it. Laugh at me. I'm glad I could entertain you and make you smile. Nothing is like when you are jamming out and the people around you join in. Once, I had a friend with me and we were rocking out, to the point the car was shaking and the people across the intersection started dancing too. We had a dance off right there in the car at one of the busiest intersections. It was a blast.

My point being, to everyone in the sea of white sedans and black minivans I was an idiot. To me I was being myself and I was making myself happy. Once I embraced it I noticed all the other 20 something moms and them bumping and singing. I smile. Oh the simple things in life, bumping in the morning and mid-afternoon. Who knew this is what my life would become? So pump, pump the jams. Gotta keep on moving. Fist pump, Pop it, lock it, I don't care. Be happy, that's all that matters. And if I see you, you better believe there is going to be a dance off. Bring it.