Harry Styles has a new album out, as I'm sure you've heard by now via Netflix special, surprise "Saturday Night Live" appearance, carrier pigeon, etc. With it, the singer — undoubtedly in his David Byrne era — has a prescription: "Kiss All the Time. Disco, Occasionally." The electro-pop album has come at an interesting time for me, however, and I'll be honest that as a first-time mom of a 7-month-old, I'm not discoing much. I'm actually not discoing at all.
I've actually been feeling guilty lately about not making enough time to work out, move my body, and practice self-care. When I was initially given the go-ahead to work out again after giving birth, I eagerly rushed back to my barre studio, managing to squeeze in two classes a week, in addition to a few mat pilates videos from home. Now, the momentum's slowed, and the couch has called my name.
But my disco days aren't over.
The other day, I was trying to entertain my fussy, teething daughter so that she wouldn't have a meltdown before her nap. I put on some throwbacks (she's especially obsessed with Suzanne Vega's 1987 "Tom's Diner," don't ask me why) and pulled out all the moves. She giggled as I flailed and shimmied and shook. I might not have made it to a workout that day — or even that week — but I worked up a sweat right there in the living room, and maybe that's enough for now.
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