Walkin on Sunshine

Charlie has started to walk. This video is from about a week ago, so he has improved from these first few steps. He has no fear, as he careens from one object to another, across our lawn, or through the middle of the circle of our music class. He especially likes when we say "ready, set,..." and then he finishes with a loud "go!" We are working on capturing this as a video.

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.

Baby I'm Amazed

We are about to celebrate our 18-month birthday. In some ways I thought we would be farther along in our development (and when I say “we” I mean all of us-Bry, me, Nori and Charlie) but we have grown in ways I never thought possible. I wait anxiously for them to take their first steps (I include Bryan here again) as they wait patiently for me to catch on to their wants and needs. Our second summer, but in some ways it always feels like the first (fill in the blank).

Nori babbles and sings a language that is mostly made up of variations on the words, “baby” and “daddy.” I think she lives in a musical where we all resemble Muppets. I like living there with her as often as I can. She is well on her way to being a triple threat and suddenly the mothers on Toddlers and Tiaras don’t look so crazy to me anymore. She has also taken to mirroring my mannerisms, like lifting her hands and arms as if to say, “I don’t know,” and pointing to things in books as she reads. She gives great hugs and she gives kisses with her forehead.

Charlie’s response to “what does the tiger say,” is as authentic as if I were watching the Discovery Channel. He can also vocalize a snake and Nori’s need scream. He can fit shapes into puzzles and turn the television off and on. He enjoys watching Sports Center with Bryan in the morning and reading Good Night Moon with me at night. He also loyally applauds for Nori when she accomplishes something and for me when I sing Twinkle Twinkles Little Star. He gives great hugs too, especially to all the moms in our weekly music class.

Every sing-song “hi,” and every wave “bye-bye,” feels like a miracle to me. When I feel a tiny hand using my leg for balance or a head resting on my shoulder breathing baby breath into my ear I think, “I can’t believe you are mine.” A hundred sleepless nights are trumped by one smile. Amazing.

The Ole' Grey Mare Just Ain't What She Used to Be

The official badge of motherhood did not come on the day my children were born. Nor did I feel thoroughly vetted when I joined a mom’s group, a mom’s workout group, and the online “circle of moms.” I thought I caught a glimpse of myself as “mommy,” in the Whole Foods front window once, pushing a stroller, dirty hair pulled back with an almost stylish headscarf and a distinct spot of throw-up on the lapel of my rumbled blouse. No, “motherhood” as my vocation did not come the day I resigned from the teaching position I held for almost 10 years. Instead, it came today in a package from Victoria’s Secret that contained my first “swim skirt.” I fought the anti-bikini for years, even though I knew it would save me from the unsightly hair that escapes the light of a bathroom but waves like a line of car dealership flags in the beach breeze. But now, I need to embrace my new swimming costume. I have always been a firm believer in exercise and healthy living as a means to look and be healthy. Truthfully, I have never felt better in my life and I am really satisfied with my new fitness schedule. However, they say that having children changes everything forever. That is certainly true for many aspects of my life but none more than the parts of my body that were the largest that they could ever be during my pregnancy. Lord only knows what would have happened to me if I had gone even close to full term. I would have needed to wear a full-on wetsuit to the beach, never mind a Lycra mini. So, I will be satisfied in my beach dress. At least the throw-up will wash right off in the water.