Look Mom! I Learned the Diva Slide and Dollar Pick-Up!

I'm bringing' sexy back... Sing it with me now..

Never in my life did I think that I would ever be learning an exotic chair dance surrounded by seven of my newest Mommy friends. And it goes without saying that never in my life did I ever think I would be swinging around a pole with neither my hands nor my feet touching the floor. But hot damn if that wasn't the most fun I've had in an hour and a half, I don't know what was.

I know it may come as a surprise to you all, but I can be quite the Modest Mary. Go ahead and pick your chins up from the floor, but I've come a long ways since my college days of dancing on bars and grinding in dark and dirty frat houses. So when the thought of bumping and grinding came to mind, anywhere other than the confines of my own bedroom, you can imagine the reservations I had. Yes, Mom and Dad. I bump and grind. I mean, I do have a Carter, afterall.

Thank god there was an "optional" cocktail half-hour before our group was scheduled to meet meet in the Exotic Lounge. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing optional about that half-hour. I would be needing all of the cocktails I could knock back in those precious thirty minutes. 

So there we were. Just eight of your average mommies. Ready to get our proverbial freak on. In between side stares and catching glimpses of beauty products meant to tuck, tape, pull and hide, we laughed about how our husband's must've secretly joined forces to plan this month's particular Mom's Night Out event. It's true- I've never seen my husband walk through the door after a long, stressful day at the office, so eager to whisk C away so that I could enjoy some "me" time. And how fitting. Right before Valentine's Day. It's a good thing we never dry-walled that support beam in our basment. Bow chicka wow wow... 

Before I could polish off my second glass of wine (or was it my third?), "Lusty McNasty" entered the lounge and informed us to pick our "stage names" for the evening. It was at this moment I knew I would immediately have to push any and all modesty that I had been clinging to aside and get those creative juices flowing. It wasn't my finest moment, but for the following sixty minutes I would be referred to solely as "Hot Lips." Not for nothing but once I caught a glimpse of Lusty's choice attire for the evening, I'm fairly certain I couldn't think of much else. I don't think I've ever seen a tinier pair of spandex boy shorts in my life. In fact, I'm not even sure they could be classified as boy shorts. A double eye-patch may be a more fitting description. As for the rest of "Lusty McNasty?" Think: a cross between She-Ra and Jessica Rabbit. A female contestant on that show All-American Gladiators, who raided Jessica Rabbit's closet, walking away with only that pair of red shoes she wore with that glittery red dress. 

As I slug back that last sip (or three) of chardonnay, I follow Mimi Deepcheeks, Sporty Spice, Sassy Sally and Candi Cane (just to name a few) back into the dimly light room known as the " Exotic Chair Lounge." As I entered into this hazy, sultry dance studio, with strobe lights a' swirling.. all I could think about was that song "No Sex in the Champagne Room." So.. this is what the champagne room must look like? We each stake claim to a singular wooden chair set up in a circle in the middle of the room. As Lusty begins to break down moves I have only seen in movies (get your head out of the gutter right now, not those movies!), R. Kelly's "Bump N' Grind" begins to ooze from the sound system.

Suddenly, I'm feeling all types of seductive. Say what? Where the heck did this come from? I hate to say it, but could it be? Was Lusty McNasty was responsible for the sweaty palms and sudden rush of adrenaline I was feeling? I mean, girl had some moves! As we snickered and giggled our inhibitions and reservations away, we fell into a groove of "naughty girl rockers," "peek-a-boo's," "garter displays," and more.

We joked about how if someone didn't get pregnant from these dance moves alone, then someone was definitely going to be giving their current brood an extra sibling ten months down the road. I'm pretty sure we even went as far as to take bets later that evening as to which Mommy it would be.

One bit of advice? Confidence is more than 90% of the battle. If you think sexy? Chance are you'll have no problem getting your groove thang on. Oh yeah. Well, the wine helps, too.

The lap dance instruction culminted in a sexy dance-off, if you will, where we were split into two Mommy teams and forced to put together a sexy dance determined by moves we had pulled from a hat. After all was said and done, I know which Mommies I'll be calling in the near future when I'm stuck straddling a chair, my fingers tangled in my garter, having forgotten just what a "naughty girl rocker" was. Did someone say something about the "show your cellulite off" move?

After dominating the dance floor, or was that "dominatrix?" we moved into the Pole Studio. A room that appeared quite similar to the ballet studios of my childhood, just with approximately 12 dancer's poles interspersed throughout the floor. This certainly wasn't your Momma's dance studio... er, or was it? Impressed with our level of skill, Lusty quickly walked us through a few particularly famous moves. Including but not limited to "the diva slide," "the fireman's swing," "the backward's swing," and my particular favorite, "the dollar pick-up." 

Ladies, I didn't even know my body could still bend that way. It was awesome. It was empowering. It was an absolute blast. So, my clothes don't fit right. My lovehandles may just be a bit more... lovely. I spend more days smelling like a mix of sour milkies and pureed pears than the expensive Givenchy perfume that my husband so lovingly adores. But you know what? After swinging around that pole and shimmying all over that chair and the floor? I'd be darned if I didn't feel like one heckuva sassy sexpot.

Oh, and for those of you wondering as to whether or not it was a workout? It was a ridiculously good workout at that. The following few days? My arms and my abs were burnin' like never before... So, who's going back with me for a 6-class pack?