I’ve recently started doing yoga at my YMCA. I don’t claim to be good at it. I’m not even sure I’m doing half the poses correctly. Most of the time I feel like the most uncoordinated person in the room. However, it makes me feel very relaxed despite the fact that I’m dripping sweat the entire hour session. That alone makes it worth the awkwardness and fear of falling over. So, in I troop, three times a week. I haven’t even purchased my own mat yet because I’m still trying to figure out if this is going to permanently be a good workout, or if it only is right now because I’m stretching my body in ways I don’t think it was designed to move – and most certainly is not accustomed to.
I really needed the relaxation of breathing deeply for an hour while trying to stay upright balancing on one bent leg today. My dad was in the hospital on Friday with a blockage in his artery – and is heading into surgery tomorrow to remove the block and have some stents put in. I’m pretty stressed about it and figured yoga would help me (at least for a little while) try and push the fear of losing my Daddy out of my head.
Usually I get to class a few minutes early, lest I get stuck front and center or directly behind the 7 foot tall dude who frequently comes to class. Today, I was practicing my breathing waiting for class to start, and in came trouble. A woman – with her 2 year old son. She looked frazzled. Like she absolutely needed a break from the kid because he was driving her up the wall. I wondered why on earth she hadn’t left him in childcare – and then realized maybe she wasn’t actually coming to class, was only checking out the Y. Silly optimistic me. She was indeed coming to class and proceeded to get herself a mat…and one for the rugrat. Now, as a mother, I love that my Y offers “Mommy and me” yoga classes. I fully intend to take Madison with me to a couple once she turns three. So, my next thought was that this lady thought she’d arrived at one of the kids-included classes and had no idea she was about to completely disrupt an entire room of people. Continue reading
Ah, potty training. Is there a more wonderful thing in all the world? I think not.
My daughter Madison will be three in October. As of last week, she was still going in a diaper and I, her mother was changing her (sorry – little potty book humor for you moms out there). We tried going cold turkey to panties before, all it got me was a week of cleaning her messes off my floors, carpet and whatever toys she trailed across in her rush to tell me she was going potty. We tried bribing her. For a week she got a new play-doh item every time she went in the potty. For a week, she was perfect. Her motivation ran out as soon as the toys did.
Part of me wants to say she’s too smart for her own good. That she obviously knows it’s far easier to have Mommy (or Daddy) clean her up than to do it herself. So she’s intentionally deciding to continue with the diaper. But I know that’s just vanity – wanting to believe my child is brilliant rather than too lazy or stubborn to just go herself in the bathroom. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Madison (I’m sure) is a genius who will one day wow the world in some amazing fashion, but that’s not WHY she isn’t potty trained yet. Continue reading
I realized today (thanks James) that I haven’t blogged in – well, far too long. Shame, shame on me. I’m so sorry!
I’m currently decompressing from an incredibly busy day and preparing for a new (equally hectic) day on the horizon. I started watching a friend’s children today, and will have an infant, two 2 1/2 year olds and a five year old for the next several days. This on the week I’ve finally put my foot down with my daughter and am refusing her anything but panties to wear on her “I want to keep going in my pull-up because it’s way easier to have you keep changing me Mommy”-butt.
Today I put them to work digging up bricks and then lugging them to the front yard to make a path. No. I’m not kidding. They begged to help me. We also played hopscotch, went to church, read books, pushed Minnie Mouse around in a stroller, ran in circles (this occupied them for far longer than I expected it to), ate Mac-n’-Cheese (real stuff for all but my poor Madison who made due with vegan ‘cheese’), got incredibly dirty, destroyed the playroom and had an all around fantastic time.
I grew up in a family of 5 children, but myself have never wanted tons of kids. The two I’ve got now normally keep me incredibly-crazy-don’t-have-time-for-anything-else-busy and my theory is that God would have given me more than two hands if He wanted me caring for more than that number of children on a daily basis. Honestly, I have no clue how my mother raised (and home-schooled) five munchkins. My brain starts hurting just considering that many offspring.
I will concede however, that today was delightful in many ways that a normal two-kid day just isn’t. Little kids are amazing to listen to, especially when they’re discussing things (that really, only they understand) with each other. I love that today Madison had other little people to tell her funny stories to, laugh with, bathe her babies and”bake” cupcakes with. It really was awesome. I’m looking forward to the next few days – should be full of laughter and fun.
Don’t get too excited Shannon (or Mom) – I didn’t love today enough to want more of my own.
Spent some time outside enjoying a GORGEOUS Seattle day today. Ahhh. It was awesome. Burned my shoulders, grew lots of new freckles and discovered that Donovan is NOT a fan of the lawn mower. Took some photos of the little man, which he is a big fan of. The little girl has decided to become anti-camera. But, she is very pro-bubbles…and sidewalk chalk. Just a little happy day.
Every time I take one of my kids in for their needed vaccinations I think of how quickly I revert to childlike behavior with God. Yesterday, as my son looked at me, pain in his eyes and sobs welling up in his little throat, I realized I mirror his reaction when dealing with hard things in life.
I whine and complain. Cry and carry on asking God “why?”. In my finite mind, it seems so without reason, unfair and unnecessary. In hindsight, the needle pricks of life really aren’t such a big deal. But in that moment of pain, it’s all consuming. When getting shots my kids don’t remember that every day I clothe and feed them – lavishing them with hugs, kisses and care. Just as I rapidly forget all the wonderful things God has done for me, focusing instead only on the apparent lack of concern He’s demonstrating just then. I’m sure my thoughts echo my children’s “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t be doing this.” Continue reading