Yoga and I have never been completely harmonious. I've taken plenty of classes, both at private studios and the gym. I've bought dvds from respectable sources and read more than a few articles and books on the subject. I've tried to establish a daily practice with limited success. And yet, something as simple as child's pose still eludes me. For the love of Gravy, it's called child's pose.
I understand the principles of yoga, but that's not the same as truly getting it. Once I'm squeezed into the necessary spandex my exercise regime requires, my sports-driven, cardio-intensive mindset struggles to slow down and focus on each pose. I'm surprisingly deficient at stamina, proper technique and breathing. I'm easily lured to sleep when the lights are dimmed, and, to top it off, I'm flatulent...and still juvenile enough to get the giggles when I toot in public.
Now that I have a new prana, I joined a pre-natal yoga class at a local studio. And for the first time, both yoga and pregnancy kind of made sense. Stay with me.
For starters, everyone there was further along than me and had visible baby bellies. Yes, I knew it was a pre-natal class, but I felt slightly awe-struck that there were only pregnant women there and I'm sure I gave more than one the creeps with my enthusiastic newbie smile. The instructor was great...she had a smooth voice, an easy nature, and a sense of humor. It was nice to have her tell me what was a good idea for a pre-mama to do and not do. I'm not really getting those tips in my other exercise classes and I've always had hearing loss when it comes to listening to my body...no pain no gain, the drive of an athlete, blah blah blah. It was nice to know what was a good stopping point in a posture before I got to the gone-too-far *ouch* moment.
The poses were thoughtful and slow and easy to modify depending on how pregnant you were. There were poses that required partnering with someone else similar in size. I was paired with the woman having twins soon. I like to think it was because of our similar height. Anyhoot...I felt like I was breathing correctly throughout the class, and that pleased my inner teacher's pet. But it also made me feel like I might actually be tuned in. It was nice to begin to focus my breath and awareness on and around my baby.
But my favorite part was the end of the class. Not that it was over, but because of the last super-relaxing position and the words of the instructor. She told us we are part of the universe, and we should be extra-open to letting it embrace us during this time in our life. Ohhh, I liked that. I already believe we are star-stuff. I waited too many days to write this post, so I don't remember everything she said that tingled my spidey senses, but I loved that she said things about being still and part of the universe, about being happy and at peace and present in the moment with my baby.
Normally my place in this universe is most clairvoyant when I'm on the beach, below the waves, in the woods or under the stars. For the first time in my yoga universe, the stars aligned: the poses were fluid, the breathing was right, the gas did not pass. But what are stars if not balls of gas, right?! So it would have been okay if I had. The universe was in balance and I started making real room for a new little star.
Child's pose takes on a different meaning when there's an actual child in the center of it.
Namaste.
Sunday, January 31
Saturday, January 23
The things we say and do. Or not.
A friend said a flavorful swear word in front of me the other day, then quickly added, "Oh, I'm going to have to stop saying that around you, aren't I?" and glanced at my belly.
It was funny until it occurred to me that I was going to have to start watching what I said around me. Which in turn led me to think of things my husband commonly says, the phrases that simultaneously cause eye rolls and giggle fits, like "we'll play it by ear" and "if push comes to shove"...things I don't necessarily want to hear my child say. Things I thought only parents said.
Whoa.
We're going to be parents. Soon.
The unfinished to-do list of what I was going to do/be before I had a child rattled off in my head. I was supposed to already:
1. be bilingual
2. have traveled to at least 5 of 7 continents
3. completed a triathalon
4. have conquered laundry.
The list is much, much longer, but out of these, I'm most unnerved about #4. It's tied up with a whole batch of bad habits that I don't wish to pass along, habits my mother tried to re-wire in me since the beginning of time. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind washing my clothes, or drying them. It's the next steps I've battled my whole life: fold and put them up. My husband (bless his patient and neat soul) has often said that the floor and furniture wear my clothes more than I do. And sadly, he's right -- Quick honey, look! I put it in writing on the world wide web!
If I get something out to wear and change my mind...does it go back on the hanger? Oh nooooo. I put it in a pile. A pile! I'm a master stacker (that's a whole different post). Ironing? No thanks. I have never reached the Zen state of mind my mother claims to have when she irons. My husband and I still do our laundry separate. He knew all too well it could end our marriage. I have a mental block on laundry fulfillment. Always have.
Mom used to have a sweet little cross-stitched sign hanging in the kitchen that said, "DO IT NOW." I try to abide by that when I lose steam on completing day-to-day chores...except laundry. Starting today I'm going to focus on improving this bane of my homemaker existence. Okay, maybe tomorrow, but still, it's moving to the top of the list. I can order a meal in Spanglish; I've been to 3 continents; I can run, bike and swim even if I haven't put the three together in one day.
So laundry, here I come. I will conquer you, if push comes to shove.
It was funny until it occurred to me that I was going to have to start watching what I said around me. Which in turn led me to think of things my husband commonly says, the phrases that simultaneously cause eye rolls and giggle fits, like "we'll play it by ear" and "if push comes to shove"...things I don't necessarily want to hear my child say. Things I thought only parents said.
Whoa.
We're going to be parents. Soon.
The unfinished to-do list of what I was going to do/be before I had a child rattled off in my head. I was supposed to already:
1. be bilingual
2. have traveled to at least 5 of 7 continents
3. completed a triathalon
4. have conquered laundry.
The list is much, much longer, but out of these, I'm most unnerved about #4. It's tied up with a whole batch of bad habits that I don't wish to pass along, habits my mother tried to re-wire in me since the beginning of time. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind washing my clothes, or drying them. It's the next steps I've battled my whole life: fold and put them up. My husband (bless his patient and neat soul) has often said that the floor and furniture wear my clothes more than I do. And sadly, he's right -- Quick honey, look! I put it in writing on the world wide web!
If I get something out to wear and change my mind...does it go back on the hanger? Oh nooooo. I put it in a pile. A pile! I'm a master stacker (that's a whole different post). Ironing? No thanks. I have never reached the Zen state of mind my mother claims to have when she irons. My husband and I still do our laundry separate. He knew all too well it could end our marriage. I have a mental block on laundry fulfillment. Always have.
Mom used to have a sweet little cross-stitched sign hanging in the kitchen that said, "DO IT NOW." I try to abide by that when I lose steam on completing day-to-day chores...except laundry. Starting today I'm going to focus on improving this bane of my homemaker existence. Okay, maybe tomorrow, but still, it's moving to the top of the list. I can order a meal in Spanglish; I've been to 3 continents; I can run, bike and swim even if I haven't put the three together in one day.
So laundry, here I come. I will conquer you, if push comes to shove.
Wednesday, January 20
please take a moment...
...in the midst of your good thoughts and prayers for the Haitian people and add a prayer and some good thoughts for my dear friend's little girl, Greta, who is in pediatric ICU in Minnesota. They are dealing with scary things, and need all the good energy they can get. Greta needs extra prayers for strong lungs and steady hands from her healthcare providers. Thank you.
Update: surgery went 'without a hitch'. thank you for good thoughts.
Update: surgery went 'without a hitch'. thank you for good thoughts.
Sunday, January 17
Q & A
I'm beginning to realize that when you tell folks you're pregnant, the congrats and sweet words are followed by lots of questions. Many are pretty standard: how far along, when are you due, have you been sick, do you know what it is...all easy enough to answer (and the answer to the last one: we don't want to find out, which has received mixed reviews...sorry about that, I like a surprise).
My favorite is when someone who already knows says, "So how are yoooouuu today?" in a tone that suggests we're in a conspiracy together. I know they are sincere, so I struggle to answer without being silly. I don't have a pregnant belly yet, so I guess that's why it strikes me as funny. It also reminds me of when my freshman roommate, Angie, and I used to go to the grocery together in college.
We would purposely enter the same aisle from opposite ends and when we'd get close, one would turn to the other and begin: "Charlene...is that yoooouuu?" and the other would reply with the same surprise, "Billy Jo?! Oh my goooosh! How are yoooouuu?!?!" and we'd carry on in ridiculous accents, asking how are the 5 kids...what, 7 now? well how are they, did you quit smoking bleach yet, your mustache looks great!, etc. etc.
Eventually we would say our goodbyes and swear to keep in touch. Then we'd go to another aisle and do the whole charade again with new names and questions. Folks going through the store at the same time gave us priceless looks and hurried away. I think of Angie everytime I run into someone I know at the store, and I have to resist asking how their appearance went on the Jerry Springer show.
Thinking of future grocery trips with my little person in tow, I'm excited to pass on the tradition. I hope we run into Angie while we're there...her questions are always easy to answer and I can't wait to hear how her 26 kids are doing.
My favorite is when someone who already knows says, "So how are yoooouuu today?" in a tone that suggests we're in a conspiracy together. I know they are sincere, so I struggle to answer without being silly. I don't have a pregnant belly yet, so I guess that's why it strikes me as funny. It also reminds me of when my freshman roommate, Angie, and I used to go to the grocery together in college.
We would purposely enter the same aisle from opposite ends and when we'd get close, one would turn to the other and begin: "Charlene...is that yoooouuu?" and the other would reply with the same surprise, "Billy Jo?! Oh my goooosh! How are yoooouuu?!?!" and we'd carry on in ridiculous accents, asking how are the 5 kids...what, 7 now? well how are they, did you quit smoking bleach yet, your mustache looks great!, etc. etc.
Eventually we would say our goodbyes and swear to keep in touch. Then we'd go to another aisle and do the whole charade again with new names and questions. Folks going through the store at the same time gave us priceless looks and hurried away. I think of Angie everytime I run into someone I know at the store, and I have to resist asking how their appearance went on the Jerry Springer show.
Thinking of future grocery trips with my little person in tow, I'm excited to pass on the tradition. I hope we run into Angie while we're there...her questions are always easy to answer and I can't wait to hear how her 26 kids are doing.
Friday, January 15
Anda one, anda two...
It feels somewhat epic to start a blog, to put your mishmash of words out there and hope no one thinks you’re stupid or smelly or worse...not funny. In general, I try to live in the moment, but I’m also one of those people who rethinks my words a million times over. Thoughts like, “Should I have said that?” or “Was there a better way to say it?” or “Is it time for lunch?” are daily occurrences.
In this new year of 2010, I plan to laugh it up and share the joy. And I’m making every effort to not sweat the small stuff…at least, not until my first child makes his/her debut in this world. From what I hear, I will sweat a lot when that time comes. But oh what fun(!) to have a new little person to love and cherish, who will hopefully look like my husband and sleep like my dog, who I can giggle near and glubber over and mish-mash words with, like catbird and dogfish and elephantbug.
We’re at 14 weeks and 1 day. Welcome to my blog.
In this new year of 2010, I plan to laugh it up and share the joy. And I’m making every effort to not sweat the small stuff…at least, not until my first child makes his/her debut in this world. From what I hear, I will sweat a lot when that time comes. But oh what fun(!) to have a new little person to love and cherish, who will hopefully look like my husband and sleep like my dog, who I can giggle near and glubber over and mish-mash words with, like catbird and dogfish and elephantbug.
We’re at 14 weeks and 1 day. Welcome to my blog.
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