These Shoes Were Made for Walkin

Nori has been walking for about two weeks now. She really stepped it up after a full day with her cousin Tyler, who runs rather than walks. So, we bought some new walking shoes a couple of days ago and Nori is very proud of her kicks. Since the walking started, she has been a little helper, especially if it involves Charlie. I am not sure if Charlie appreciates her assistance in eating pretzels, playing with toys, or getting his diaper changed, but I think he knows she means well even if she is a little aggressive in her tactics. Charlie has taken a few steps but we are still a little ways away from actual walking. Everyone says to appreciate their immobility while it lasts but I have to say I really like walking Nori and I can't wait to see Charlie wobbling around too.

Giving Peace a Chance

I belong to a Mom's group that posts a monthly calendar filled with activities and get togethers. We attend at least one activity a month, but a lot of the activities are more appropriate for children two and up. This month featured a mommy and me yoga demo class and an email went around prior to class encouraging everyone to come, even with little ones. So, the day came, and Nori and Charlie went down for their naps early and woke up refreshed just in time to get to class. I thought it was meant to be.


There is nothing zen about me walking up a flight of steps with a baby in each arm, but I tried my best to stifle my labored breathing while attempting to gracefully take off my shoes and glide into the studio and onto my mat without landing with an extra 26 pounds of baby thud. Miss Jamie, our instructor, smiled and welcomed us, wrote our names down on post-its and placed them at the end of our mat. Nori and Charlie sat quietly holding on to my cross legged knees, but their observation period did not last very long. We began class with Ohms and then played a name game. Miss Jamie rolled a ball and each child said their name and their favorite animal when the ball came to them. Charlie got the ball first and threw it behind his head and said, "hi!" I retrieved the ball and handed to Nori, who held it as tight as she could, smiling coyly at all the eyes on her.



Then we began to play some games that took the children through some basic yoga poses. As children moved around the room, Charlie took the opportunity to crawl onto every other child's mat and collect all the post it notes, prompting at least one child to sob, "He took my name." Once we remedied the crying, the children went back to their mats to lie down for a quiet pose on their backs. Charlie crawled on to the little boy next to us in order to inspect how his Spiderman shirt lit up. He only let up his investigation when another child was brought behind a nearby curtain to use the bathroom. Before I could uncross my legs, Nori and Charlie were just about under the curtain. It took some coaxing to get them out and leave the potty trained child in peace, but we were able to persuade them using little cotton balls that the children were picking up with their toes and placing into a cup. After tasting a few of the balls, Charlie crawled around and began emptying the cups that the children had worked their toes so hard to fill. More sobbing ensued. Finally, class ended, with a slightly frazzled Miss Jamie rubbing lavender oil on the feet of each child. All except for Charlie, who is allergic to lavender.

I have always said that Yoga is not a competitive sport and it seems it is not a family activity either. At least not for now. Maybe it will be "meant to be" next year.

Namaste

“Let your movement be directed by your breath,” a mantra murmured by Yoga instructors and one of the few directions I find impossible to follow. I am always inhaling when everyone else is exhaling, drinking in as much air as I can and then quickly expelling it audibly into the room as if I am constantly sighing. Even with my frustration with my uneven breath, I was dedicated to my Yoga “practice,” as they call it, prior to motherhood, making sure I attended at least one hour and half class weekly, not letting my cardio obsession rule my physical fitness program. I knew it was good for me, even though I sometimes felt like a fraud because I could not embrace the entire practice the way I thought I should. I was supposed to “quiet my mind” and just focus on the task at hand. I tried, I really did, but my mind swirled around each twist. I used my outward breath as a disguise for muttering my to-do list aloud. I thought about what kind of shake I would get after class, how much time I would use for school work and could I possibly squeeze in a manicure that day. On heavier days I would only be able to think about all the thingsI could not do. But, even with all that mind clutter, I was able to have many successful practices, feeling strong and accomplished as I left the studio, triumphantly swinging my Yoga mat bag over my arm, sipping on my protein shake.

I attempted to resume my practice while we were in Tampa, on my own, off the balcony of our rented furnished apartment. I only managed to squeak out one solo session, but it felt good and I was eager to get back into a schedule once we returned home and began our new life. I was excited yet nervous for the first class back. I was not sure how much strength I had lost, or how my flexibility had become almost rigid from my time away. Instead, I had trouble with other things, right from the moment we sat cross-legged and prepared for the practice. I just could not “quiet my mind,” nor fill it with mundane lists. I tried to push through but my muscles barking during a downward dog could not silence the new noise in my head. My mind flew away into darkness during pigeon pose and screamed during eagle. I left that first class early, unable to lose myself in the breath, and did not return to the yoga studio for months.

More recently, I have begun to incorporate Yoga back in to my life. I remember now what I love about it. It is a balance of strength and stretch. That, perhaps, is my murmured mantra. I needed to be reminded of that today and maybe everyday. Awareness, authenticity, generosity and gratitude have always been the things that I have strived for but are often the things that get lost in the messiness of my mind. “Let your inhale match your exhale,” the instructor coaxes in her spiritual librarian voice, reminding me that finding balance does not come easy, but it is worth the practice.

Vacation

So we chose Aruba for our first family vacation. I thought it best to document it here so that I could use it as a reference point for the next few years if Nori and Charlie claim "we never take them anywhere." This vacation should hold weight as an answer for the next 10 years at least. We had many moments of joy: Nori letting the mini waves touch her nose, playing baby tag with Tyler in our generously shared two bedroom suite, Charlie groping the female passengers in first class. The kids waved like celebrities from their stroller during our daily walks and lounged in the pool as Bryan pushed them on their blow up rafts. Vacation, however, had never been so much work for Bryan and me.