Relax

A little over three years ago, when Harrison was just a wee little peanut getting ready to head to preschool for the first time, I thought he was going to L-O-V-E swimming lessons. His preschool is at the Y and therefore swim lessons are part of the curriculum. Perfect! I thought, because while I can swim (it's not pretty), I'm certainly not qualified to teach him how to do it. The first time came and went, but when the second one rolled around two weeks later, I realized we were in trouble. HD was not a fan. Not at all. There was not "Yay! Swimming Day!!!" at our house after the initial day. More likely it was tears and fighting to get his suit on so he'd be ready for the day, every single time. Truth? I made Ben do that. It became such a battle that I had to remove myself from the situation and let B calmly get HD in his suit for the bimonthly day of lessons before he left for school. I did my part last year, however, and came up with the Brave Toes solution. That got us through Year Two, ahem, swimmingly.

So just when I thought we had this swimming gig figured out, Year Three came along with an unexpected twist: swimming lessons every.blessed.week. of the year. Wha??????? I guess it makes sense. He's with his class every day of every week so they have time to do a morning one day of each of those weeks in the pool. And it's not a "day" of swimming. It's a 15 minute lesson that is part of centers, with time for prep and drying off tacked on before and after the lesson. I thought after HD's improvement last year that he'd be fine with the increase, and at first, he was. But by the end of September, he had clearly realized that something was very different about this year's swimming schedule which lead to meltdown city in early October.

We have always, always, told HD that it's his choice to swim when he gets to school. We ask that he put his suit on and we talk about being brave and proud and all that, but ultimately, it is always his choice. And he always chooses to swim. Even on the day he dissolved his teacher's arms prior to his lesson, he still chose to get in the pool. So why the upset? I really don't know. He's just very anxious about getting his face in the water and even though we practice in the tub at home, he's been struggling this whole month on swim days. And since Raegan has music and art classes at the YW and CMCN on Tuesdays, I can't really get there to help except for the odd week of the month that does not have Toddler Art, which just so happened to be today for October.

After working plans out with Harrison's classroom teacher, we made arrangements so I could get there after Raegan's music class this morning to help HD get changed and watch him during his lesson. [I actually got in on some center time too which was pretty awesome (still could never be a preschool teach though and bow down to any and all who are!), and then it was lesson time.] HD wasn't nervous at all, which he told me would be the case when we talked about it at breakfast, because I was there. And while that's super and flattering, we've got to figure out some more coping skills because obviously this is not going to be a regular thing.

As it stood today, I'm glad I was able to get there at least once because I learned a lot. Standing and watching his group get in the pool and do their warm up exercises was eye opening. The teachers kept telling Harrison (and some of the other kiddos) to relax their feet as they kicked the water. Then when practicing putting their faces in, it was "relax" your neck to let the air/bubbles out. And again, when doing Fat Bears (or is it Flat Bears?!), I heard it multiple times, for multiple kids. The concept makes so much sense. If the body is tense, you cannot move with or respond to the water and let your breath work for you. Tense your neck and you cannot release air. Go stiff in your legs or ankles and you cannot kick to stay afloat. Basically, the message is: hold on to the stress and you cannot succeed. Can we say, "Metaphor Alert"?!

As I'm sure you've already guessed, some other lightbulbs went off in my head while watching HD's 15 minute lesson. When his swim teachers kept talking about relaxing and letting the breath go, the body be loose, I of course thought of yoga. How many times have I heard (and said!), the body and the mind go where the breath go. If your breath is racing, your heart and your head will be as well. Deep breaths relax us, allow us to move, and sustain us during times of turbulence. How have I never before seen the connection between swimming and yoga? Well, probably because I don't swim, but lucky for me, I have a friend who is currently teaching an early morning class in the pool and I've discovered that starting my mornings early (while subbing at the Y last week and this week) is very worthwhile, so perhaps I'll get some more practice and peace with the water that way. As with any other mood, kids pick up on our attitudes, and I'm sure Harrison feels my lack of confidence with the water. Beyond getting myself to the pool, now I see how I can help my sweet boy away from the swimming lesson days, as well, by talking about his breath and breathing. We use calming breaths a lot in our house (some days more than others and usually me, not them, but you know - I'm leading by example, right?), but directly talking about relaxing his body while in the pool? That will be new and hopefully very, very helpful.

Really, today was a huge success, not only because HD had a calm lesson before, during, and after, but also because I got to witness him in struggle while simultaneously being presented with a solution for potential improvement. I am grateful for the insight and the knowledge I have through my own training and am fingers crossed that it/I can help him.

Sneaky

I have a thing for lamps. You can ask my hubs or my family and they will tell you - the funkier the lamp, the more I am likely to like it. Part of my collection is a small bedside lamp that I've had since high school or before and I adore it. It's so old that it actually feels like it is made of something (heavy) and if I knew anything about metals, I would insert that detail here. Since I don't, I'll continue by explaining that while this isn't my funkiest of the funky lamps, it is still one of my favorites (even though the shade is totally busted and also a wee bit burnt in one spot, but that is another story altogether). Imagine my surprise the other night, then, when I went to turn on this very familiar lamp before bed and couldn't find the knob that is, you know, the essence of a light being able to do its job. After groaping (is that not a word? my computer claims it is not) [update: groping!] around for far longer than I should have to on a lamp I've had for 15+ years, I stuck my head down to peer under the shade and saw this:

No knob! (and yes, I really want to paint this room something other than 

the purple it was when we moved in - almost three years ago!)

While I had no idea where the darn thing was, I knew right away who my culprit(s) was (were). The children have taken, lately, to playing around on my bed in the mornings, messing with the alarm clock radio that sits on my headboard shelves (which, no, still does not explain my early morning mess up last week), as does this lamp. I did the cursory scan of the shelves and under pillows and blankets and the bed itself, but no knob. Then I noticed this: 

A small wicker basket from my Africa travels that does not normally reside 

upside down. Intrigued, I flipped it over and whaddya know - the knob! 

Thankfully, this is an easy fix for my funky lamp. You simply hold the knob in its spot, twist, and viola! Good as new. But seriously, children? This is what you decided to do when you broke Mama's lap?! I can only imagine what kind of shenanigans they'll be getting into in the ages and stages to come...I can only hope that their antics continue to make me laugh as much as this one did!

P.S. And no, I'm not currently reading The Kite Runner. I'm already light years behind on reading it, but it's on my list and my bedside table, so I'll get there someday. I am keeping track again this year, though, and will post titles read in December. I'm up to 40ish, so far, I think!

Early Morning Confusion

OH, my. So I know some of you saw my Facebook post yesterday about non-sleeping and feverish babies, right? Well, yesterday turned into quite the day with stage five clingers, an RL fever over 102, and a two-hour stint at Convenient Care because our regular doctor's office was so overly jammed with patients that they couldn't possible see us until this morning and the cough Lincoln woke up with after his nap was too alarming to wait overnight. It was, clearly, A Day, full of breathing treatments and leaky faucet faces and crying whenever I set one of them down (except for when we watched Curious George: Christmas Monkey (twice)). And all of this after Lincoln had The Worst Night of All the Nights on Sunday. He made noise all evening long and that continued after B & I turned in for the night even though nothing was wrong any of the multiple times we checked/changed him. After midnight, I took the upstairs room so Ben could get some sleep before school and I saw every single hour on the clock the rest of the night/morning. At best, I got 1.5 hours of sleep in a row. Perhaps that explains what happened to me this morning?

This morning was to be my first early morning sub at the Y for their 5:45 a.m. flow. This has been on the books for weeks now and I was so ready. After I got home from subbing a class at the studio last night, I set everything out in the kitchen, just like a kid on the first day of school. KindleFire (my music source) with special 45-min playlist, written-out sequence, water bottle & granola bar,  and purse - all ready to grab and go when my alarm went off at 5:15. And yes, I set my alarm. Trust me, I checked it at least five times last night and then stared at it forever this morning when I discovered at 5:59 that I was very much still in bed and very much not subbing! Oof. So not cool.

The second the time and my location registered, I grabbed my phone, saw that I had a bunch of missed calls and instantly dialed the number back, apologizing the minute the other end picked up. To that person's amusement, I was in full-on panic mode and didn't even realize who I was calling! It was not my supervisor (which I should have known because, hi, I have her number in my phone already! but I refer you back to panic mode to explain this confusion) but a friend from the studio who knew I was subbing today and had planned to come to class. She was obviously at the Y and knowing that a no-show, or even being late, is not my norm, called to check on me. Thankfully she said folks were fine and being gracious about everything, but oh, my. I felt so bad. And so confused!

I honestly have no idea what happened. Did the alarm go off? Did I turn it off? Did I not set it properly? I know I was super tired and worn the eff out after yesterday and the previous night of poor "sleep" but I was so ready to do this today, so what the world? At least everyone has been understanding of the mistake and I still have Thursday of this week and next Tu/Th to redeem myself. And you can know I am serious when I say that I'll set more than one alarm to make sure I get there!

The Hodge-Podge Days of Fall

Huh. With all the writing I've been doing the last few months, I'm rather surprised that it has been an entire week and I haven't added anything to the blog. Perhaps the weather's been too nice and we've been too busy doing and being outside. Or perhaps I've been swamped with teaching and by the time I get home at night, I'm crashed out. Or perhaps having the kids go, in shifts, to visit the grandparents meant I had to make the most of the 24 solo hours I had, starting yesterday morning, to get a c.r.a.p.ton of stuff done around the house (i.e. clean the store room) while also taking a little time for myself (i.e. epsom salt + essential oils bath!) before, again, jetting off to teach the yogs. Or perhaps when you throw all of the above into one week, you come up short with time to blog. Whatever the reason, here's our week-in-review a.k.a. hodge-podge-picture-blog:

The weather has been gorgeous. Clear and sunny skies but with bits of bite in the air most mornings. Some wind (duh. this is NE we're talking about!), yes, but mostly just awesomeness. The kids and I have been getting out in the afternoons and having fun. We've also been practicing for Halloween:

 RL found this old costume that is probably closer to LT's size than hers, but she got it on and decided to have some Dragon Fun stomping in the leaves...

 ...and chasing her big brother though the neighbor's yard.
Silly monkey! I mean, Silly Dragon! 

Because of the nip in the air, we've had to add more layers lately (love Fall layers!) which totally works, except I did this to poor Linky the other day. Why must buttons be so hard to align when fastening them together?! Perhaps I can blame his wiggles and constant on-the-move moves?

The cooler weather also means we have to be sure to be in shoes all the time which totally works, too, but some days we have to get pretty creative with our footwear. For example, on Wednesday, I followed HD's lead (he wears this combo of shoes to school more days than not anymore) and just went with the first two shoes I could find so we could go out and enjoy the sunshine. They're both TOMS, so that counts for something right?!

Speaking of creative dressing and TOMS, check out Miss Raegan's style from the last couple weeks. She loves wearing her polka dot pink rain boots with pretty much anything, and the other day she was just as excited as I was about getting out my TOMS wedges (again, I say, "YAY, Fall!"). I will never tire of Baby Girl's fashion sense. Well, I guess I can't speak to what the teenage years will bring, but right now, I'm totally loving it. Every single crazy combo is the best.

In other news, Lincoln is a Walking Man! Well, he's got the wobbly sea legs/drunken toddler thing going, anyway, and he pops up anywhere and whenever he likes now to take his shaky steps.

It's adorable and awesome. Except when it is not. The poor kid crashes all the time and it seems like at least once a day, one of those crashes involves also hitting his head on something on the way down, like the kitchen bench last Wednesday which lead to this round of tears:

Poor baby. Seriously considering a foam crash helmet of sorts because otherwise he's going to be a bruised mess for who knows how long.

Besides all the playing and walking (and crashing), I've been a busy mama, running out the door to teach one (sometimes two!) yoga class(es) a night. This last week saw me teaching Tuesday-Friday straight (with Monday at the college, of course) and next week will be even more of an adventure as I'm starting a two-week subbing gig at the Y for their 5:45 a.m. class. 5:45 A.M.?! Oof. Well, at least I'll feel nice and limber for the T/Th that follow those classes (and I'll have some extra cash for buying coffee on the way home!). And at least I got a little break yesterday to sort through all the kid clothes that have been piling up in my store room so I feel slightly less scattered and cluttered going into two weeks of chaos fullness. Can I just say, though? How did my babies get so big? All those clothes I was putting in bins yesterday? They seemed both so tiny and also like it was impossible for all of the kids to have outgrown them already. Goodness me, I sound like I'm 85, but how do they grow so fast?!

And speaking of growing...my other plans of late are revolving around finishing starting RL's Year Three Shuttefly book and getting ready for her Frozen bday party. Here's what I found the other day as her present/to wear on her party day:

 And yes, it's entirely possible I bought these for her because they are totally in line with my own crazy-yoga-pant obsession. Hope she likes them!

Five Lessons

Dinking around on Pinterest the other day (shocker), I came across a pin for a blog post about five lessons learned from a woman's year on the mat and my breath caught for a moment in my chest. It took that second for the pieces to click, but wow - I totally could have written that tagline, especially since the one-year anniversary of my practice is swiftly approaching at the end of this month. Crazy (pants). Rather than read it (I promise, I will go back and find it/share it because it's only fair to give credit where credit is due), I decided to write my own. So here you go: Five Lessons from My Year on the Mat: 

1) Music heals my soul. This is not really new news, but holy mother of wow - the music is as much a part of my practice as the movements. It is what drew me instantly to avani and made doing my 200 at Lotus House a no brainer. Both studios are well-versed in song and the teachers at both places know the power of a well-played tune. Sequencing my classes to teach? Awesome. Making the playlists to go along with each one? Even more awesome. It's beautiful how music can reach inside and touch or heal a part of you (and thank goodness for Spotify so I didn't blow our entire budge on iTunes this last year. Oof!)

2) Crazy pants are awesome. I get it. Crazy pants are not the point of yoga. Neither are pairs that cost $100 (which, for the record, I do not own). Yoga is not about what you wear or from what store you get you gear. It's just not. That being said, I love me a good pair of crazy yoga pants. To me they represent the fun and flavor and flare that can accompany one's journey on the mat because so much freedom and confidence can come from yoga, so why not embrace the crazy pants if/when you can? I like the expressiveness and daringness that can come from sporting some funky leg wear (and yes, I have a pair dubbed the "Eff You, Tuesday" pants which probably doesn't seem very yoga of me, but some days are just special, ya know?). So even though crazy pants are nowhere near the eight limbs, you won't find me complaining that they are part of today's yoga scene in the States. My inner teenager - the one who was not always confident enough to wear the crazy pants back in the day - is flying her freak flag high and loving every minute of it.

3) Yoga is soooo much more than the physical practice. Perhaps I am lucky because I did not originally come to the mat for a workout. Actually, I know I am lucky for that because exercise in the past has been an unhealthy obsession for me, but since I came to yoga to help quiet/slow/calm my mind, the physical benefits of it sort of snuck up on me. After a few months, I could hold poses better and longer. After six months I had muscles in places that haven't seen strength or tone since B.C. (which basically puts me back to 2008). And after my 200YTT? I had some pretty kick ass muscles (and others that just felt kicked, but there you go - balance - another benefit of yoga!). in a lot of places! And while the physical poses are obviously important, I've learned that the mental and emotional and spiritual components are just as powerful. Maybe even more so. Living your yoga? That's where the real transformation comes from and comes into play. Taking the "you" on the mat (strong, beautiful, loved) and carrying that through your day-in-day-out? That's beginning and living the true work, my friends.

4) Shit's gonna change. I suppose there's a more PG way to say that, but I don't think any of the PG ways would really carry the same meaning. Some shit is going to get better. Some shit is going to have to get much worse before it starts to get better. And some shit might come up again and again and again. That's life. That's part of the practice. The point is that you keep coming back to the practice, back to the mat, back to yourself to try again. Maybe it's a pose. Maybe it's your breath. Maybe it's your brain working through stuff (see - there I used PG and I don't know - it's just not the same) you didn't even know was there. Maybe it's learning to walk away from shit that no longer serves you, whether that takes the form of thoughts, behaviors, people, or all of the above. It's not easy. But it is real and it is learning to live to the best of your ability and what greater gift can you give yourself but that?

5) A year can change everything. Some people believe that people, as a general rule, do not change. I have to disagree. While I am not a completely different person from a year ago, I am a better version of myself. I'm happier, sleeping better (most of the time), more fit (physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually), and I now get paid when I "go to work" at my dream job. That's a c.r.a.p. ton of awesome for just 12 short months and a lot of hard work and change, too. So whatever it is that you want to do? Do it. Start now and see where you are in 12 months. You might just go and shock yourself with everything you accomplish, which is what I feel when I look at this last year of yoga. It's not too late and it's never the wrong time. Open your heart. Find your center. Stretch - your mind and your body. You might just be amazed at what is waiting to greet you when you do!

Here is the inspiration post - I read it after I wrote my list and I do have to say, some of you might appreciate her No.4 (but like her, I'm going to keep talking about it. A lot.)

With Much Love and Peace - Namaste!

Pieces and Peace

It occurred to me the other morning that I've come a long way, baby, in terms of the whole helicopter parent thing. That, or maybe my life is just living proof of all those first kid vs. third kid infographics we see on the interwebs because I found myself in the kitchen, washing dishes, not really caring that it was far too quiet in the living room where RL and LT were playing. When I stuck my head in to check on them (still wearing my super fab purple rubber gloves)? I saw this:

(super fab gloves removed for photo opp)

Poor Baby Harrison. I would have never let him get away with such shenanigans (although he's had plenty of his own shenanigans, thank you very much). I mean seriously - pull the folded laundry out of the basket so I have to do one of my least favorite chores again? No. But Third Kid Me? Yeah, she took off her rubber gloves, photo documented it, and then went back to the dishes thinking, "Welp, at least they are entertained and no one is screaming (yet)." And more truth? I was pretty impressed because that basket of folded clothes was totally sitting in the living room for a solid four days (maybe more?) before they got into it, so that's awesome, right?! 

These two Littles seem to be following a trend lately, as this is what they did last Friday (perhaps I was again trying to get dishes done? Or maybe I was packing for Omaha? Not sure, but I clearly I was in another room for this great fun of taking every.single.kid.book.off.the.ding.dang.shelves): 

Like how LT is mugging for the camera? Goofers. 

But remember when I pretty much lost my mind when Toddler HD destroyed his Busy Boxes or whatever we called them a couple - three?! holy c.r.a.p. - years ago? I've got to stop and recognize this progress and be so thankful for how much more contentment I've got in my life now, even as I find myself faced with more pieces and opportunities to come apart at the seams than ever before. Thank goodness for a different perspective. For amazing support systems. For coping mechanisms. For peace. 

Little Owl

Oh, Miss Raegge. This morning RL found a big cardboard box (thank you bolster order!) to play with in the living room and she had a fabulous time coloring it, climbing in and out of it, and setting up shop (which actually meant calling it a spaceship and then a white car and then a school and then a sleeping house). She played pretty much on her own for the better part of 1/2 an hour like this - hopping in and out in order to run over and find new treasures in the desk drawer (lanyards, paper clips, unspecified sets of keys, etc.) to add to her box. At one point she was having a birthday party with a cake and candles, naturally, and when she blew out the candles, I overheard her say (in perfect imitation of the Too Much Birthday book from the Berenstain Bears), "I only want five babies!" Well my ears totally perked up at that and I had to clarify, "Five, Raegan? You want five babies?" "Uh-huh. Five!" she told me and the whole exchange made me smile and reflect back on this weekend (P.S. HD is a huge fan of babies, too, and has told me before that we should have ten - I may have baby fever, but whoa, we are not having ten! - so don't be surprised if someday I'm a grandma with lots of grandbabies!!).

During our first prenatal module this past weekend, we learned that when a woman becomes pregnant with a girl, that baby girl already has all of her eggs inside her that will someday become her own children. Isn't that the most amazing fact?! When you track it forward and backward, it's rather mind boggling. It means that when Raegan was in my tummy, I also carried the eggs that will become her future children and my grands. It also means that my mom technically carried all of my kids in her baby bumps and my grandma carried me once upon a time, too. When you look at pregnancy and family in that way, doesn't it just make you feel so connected? My maternal grandmother has been gone for over a decade now, so to suddenly have this knowledge that connects me back to her is incredible. It's a beautiful intertwining of past, present, and future, really. And when Raegan declared that she would someday have five (that was a fun typo - I just typed fine the first time), I had no doubt because I've already carried those sweet babes and can't wait to hold them again.

Another realization this weekend was learning more about the story of Lakshmi...not from a point of worship, but rather awareness of her connection to and symbolism of beauty and abundance. She is the goddess of "wealth, fortune, love and beauty, the lotus flower and fertility" which is perfect for a mama with baby fever and who also has a daughter who is suddenly talking about her own future baybeys. I also had to smile bright when I heard that Lakshmi's creature vessel is the owl. If you've been with us from the beginning, you know I love all things owl for my Sweet Baby Girl (even her crazy baby owl eyes). I also smiled at that information because our teacher had encouraged us to wear Lakshmi's colors (pink and gold) and adorn ourselves beautifully this weekend with jewelry and whatnot and look at what I almost packed:

Costume owl jewelry that I have tucked away to someday give Miss Raegan. I ultimately decided against it because I knew I wouldn't want to practice in it, but how amazing is that? Once again, I already had the knowledge and the connections within myself. I just needed to see them. Very auspicious indeed!

I'll Stop the World and Churn with You

Yowzers. That's really all I can say about the last two days (with one ommazing day left to go) of this first weekend of prenatal yoga teacher training. There have been some extremely personal and emotional moments, as expected, and I'm also really getting that flame of excitement burning for teaching prenatal yoga, not to mention Baby Fever (as in, wow, I want to have another baby). As for fixing that fever, well, another yoga mantra is going to have to see me through until it happens, because unless I "relax around the process" (thanks S.S. and K.J.), I'm going to work myself into a tizzy about adding Welschie No.4 and clearly that's not going to do any of us any good. The beauty of this weekend is that it reflects my own ideas on timing and auspiciousness which is when all the good things come together at just the right moment, which also means I've got to relinquish control. Just let it be (omg, love this song...it's the grown up version of the Frozen anthem and so very awesome). That's hard for a Type-A Lifer, but I'll keep trying.

Besides fanning/trying to contain the Baby Fever Flame, this weekend has delved into everything from body image and self love to chandra namaskar (moon salutations), definitions of womanhood, birth stories, and female empowerment. We're talking about some serious stuff here, my friends. Lots of emotions and feelings and ideas have been flying around the studio this weekend, so thank goodness for the sense of peace/home I feel here now (after my marathon summer stay) and for the amazing friends - old and new - that I have to surround and support me with love right now. It doesn't even matter if we know in the moment why there are tears in the other person's eyes - we are are there with quick hugs or shoulder squeezes and acceptance and love for each other. What an amazing gift that is, because, hi, have there been moments of tears.

For me the most emotional part of this weekend has been the concept of womanhood, seconded by body acceptance which is obviously an on-going journey for me. The definition of womanhood and understanding/seeing/accepting myself as a woman is something I've come to see this year in relation to my repressed trauma. Prior to this past winter, I never understood why I had such a hard time even referring to myself as a woman, but when certain choices that relate to your definition of womanhood are taken from you, it's hard to be at peace with the idea of suddenly being one. Does that make even an iota of sense? I feel like I'm talking in some bizarre code here, but there was a moment Friday night when we were talking about body part names, specifically the female sex organ being named in relationship to the man's, that just set me off. Logically I've known that I don't have to define myself as a woman in relationship to a man or sex or anything other than being a woman, but something about that conversation sparked an emotional reaction in me that was such a release. Do I have my new definition (man, I am really trying to rewrite my vocabulary these days, aren't I?) yet? Well, no, not entirely. But I'm getting there, which is why - again - the perfect timing (the auspiciousness) of these modules is so awesome. I get to be surrounded by amazing women and learning from an incredible woman and by the time this certification is over? Well, by then I fully expect to have my new way to view and define womanhood which will allow me to accept myself as such.

And while it was a red eye moment Friday night and another tears-in-the-ears flow class on Saturday (and who knows what/when it will come today!), I'm already feeling so much more at peace. Not even a hint of tears as I write this, actually, which in itself is pretty damn impressive. I'm also beginning to see that that - the dealing w/ of one's own shtuff - is one of the goals of this training. To be able to serve the mamas and the women in our classes, we have to be working on our issues, too. Thank goodness yoga is a moving meditation/prayer/mind-body-connection that enables a person to work through all.the.things in a healthy and helpful way. So bring on the tears and the news words and definitions and all the other beauty and soul searching...may it be a never-ending process of tuning in and opening up to all that is within and all that is possible. Which, omg, reminds me that I never explained the title of this post! We learned yesterday about the story of Lakshmi and how she was churned out of the ocean of milk (just read the link; it will make more sense than I will right now) and how it this churning - this work that we do in our lives - that brings about our power and our souls. So yes, I'll stop the world and churn with you my friends. Any time. <3

Timing

In T-minues two hours, I am heading out for an incredible adventure - Yoga School Part Two, you might call it, otherwise known as Module One of Prenatal Yoga Certification via LHOY. Being able to teach prenatal yoga was one of my motivators for my 200-hr-cert, so to say that I'm excited to start this is a complete understatement. There are not enough !!!s to indicate just how pumped I am right now. I'm also in awe of the beauty of timing that has been made clear to me these last few days. 

Just this week I shared with you that I am striving to find a new way to look at myself, at my body specifically. Just as I want to view my day-to-day as full rather than crazy, I wanted to view my body as something other than flawed, but wasn't sure what to call it. But here's the beauty of the Universe... when you put a question or a desire out there, an answer is going to come. And my "what word do I use?" question had an answer within hours of being asked on Wednesday. 

For the first time since my new - full - schedule began this fall, I actually made it to the studio to take a yoga class before teaching one at the Y later that night. It was awesome. We worked hard on the mat, got a good sweat going, and then chilled it out with my all-time fave, Legs up the Wall at the end of class. And wouldn't you know it? Just as we settled into the pose, the music changed and I got my answer, again, through song. This time it was the India Arie song - "I am Light" (and OMG, I now see that the video even has animated yoga!):

Remember the lesson about already having everything I needed inside to be a yoga teacher? Well, I already knew this answer, too, as this song was not new to me on Wednesday. It was another summer discovery and I even used it on the exact same open-heart-love-yourself playlist that I taught a few weeks ago that also included "Try." But the minute I heard "I am Light" in that class, little tears popped into the corners of my eyes (surprise!), and I knew I had my answer. Light. That is what I desire to carry in my heart and on my face; that is what I want to be and to see. And no, not light as in weight. Light as in radiant joy. If I focus on that light, instead of what my stomach or arms or thighs look like in pictures, then I really will learn how to shine. 

Seeing as the Universe just keeps giving, I found out yesterday that for the first time, the LHOY prenatal module is going to include body image, too. Our teacher shared this link via Upworthy with us and I watched, nodding along and thinking, "Yes. This is it. Now is the time." I am ready and open to receive and I cannot wait to be done with the body issues. 

Now, of course making this decision and having this phrase "I am light" do not make me instantly healed. Instantly above caring what I look like or what I look to others/in pictures/etc. But the decision and the phrase do give me the power to start changing my patterns of thought, and in time, those changes will become my norm. Eventually I'll be able to look at pictures of myself and see light radiating from within instead of just my human perceptions of flaws, because that's just it - my body - your body - it is all divinely made and nothing divine is done by mistake. 

In another bit of divine alignment, I had an excellent conversation (OK, message exchange because let's face it, we were both at our respective houses yesterday with our respective Littles) with a friend yesterday afternoon about timing. I made the comment that it mystifies me when the stars align and people tell me after a yoga class that it was exactly what they needed, but she said there's nothing mystical or random about it. It's just the Universe bringing people together who are ready to be open, ready to receive. So no wonder this weekend is going to be all about the beauty and power of the female body and about accepting and loving our bodies. It's exactly what I need right now, exactly what will help me change my old thinking habits. 

Right time, right place? Asked and answered? You bet. 

Facebook Flop?

I am confused. Something is happening on the interwebs pertaining to my blog posts and I just don't get it. In the last week-and-a-half-ish, views on my new posts have plateaued. Actually, to be more accurate, they have tanked! Why? I promise, I'm not trying to be self indulgent here (OK, maybe keeping a blog in the first place is naturally a little self indulgent) - I'm just trying to figure out what happened. Can you help me understand the phenomenon?

When I started this blogging thing, just over three years ago, I was lucky to get 25 views for a post. Since then, though, more friends and family have started to follow along with the Life and Times of the Welschies and up until very recently, posts average anywhere from 60-90 views. Maybe that's an embarrassingly small number in the greater blogosphere (I really don't know what keeping up w/ the Blogging Joneses looks like), but I've been thrilled with it. Each of those views means one more person is connecting with us, keeping tabs on our growth, and sending love and support our way. It's great! And so are the Facebook comments when I share the links there. Some great conversations have come about because of those link posts to my timeline and I'm forever grateful for building community and keeping in touch with loved ones here, there, and everywhere.

And while I've gone over some TMI lines at times and delved into the scary, deeper stuff here this year, it doesn't seem like any recent posts have been alienating, so why am I suddenly back in the teens for views on the last few blog posts? Like I said online yesterday - I don't expect people to drop everything every time I post (which this week is a lot), but to go from 80 to 40 to 20 to 11 views with my last four links? That's just bad math!

To try to combat this, I decided to create a Facebook page for The Modern Maiasaura, even though I know this is perhaps entirely counterproductive since FB is perhaps part of the problem with the original links not showing up in the newsfeed for folks like they once did. But my thought was that if people liked the page and then selected "Get Notifications" under the "Liked" button, maybe they'd see the links when I share them here? I really don't know. And since I'm not willing to pay for Facebook to "boost" my posts, it's possible the page won't do a darn thing to get my stories back to those who want or care to see them, but I have to start somewhere, so here is that place: TMM on Facebook.

If any of you are more FB savy than I (that might not require much skill, actually) and have advice, please share. Trust me - the foolishness of blogging about blogging and lamenting Facebook's algorithm while promoting a Facebook page is not lost on me. I'm just thinking in print, as I often do, and wondering, as I often do, what you all have to add to the conversation.

Keep On, Keepin' On

A few weekends ago, while planning for upcoming classes, I stumbled upon the song "Try" by Colbie Calliat. Have I mentioned how much I love Spotify? Well, the love affair continues because without Spotify, I wouldn't have this song and it's been on heavy rotation here at home and in my yoga classes  ever since because its message is so very strong. So very good (and good for me, especially).

The lines that first caught my attention were "Keep it slim, so they like you. Do you like you?" and then, later and similarly, "Wait a second/Why should you care, what they think of you/When you're all alone, by yourself, do you like you? Do you like you?"

At the time, I was planning a flow about opening the heart and, essentially, loving yourself. Self-acceptance/self-love/seeing a physical self-worth is a huge part of my yoga practice and my life in general these days. Struggling with body issues and body image has been with me for pretty much my entire adult life and while it will perhaps always be a part of me, I'm working, working, always working, on reframing. I figure, if I can work to see my calendar as full instead of crazy, I can learn to see my body as something other than flawed, too. I haven't figured out my reframing word yet, but that's part of the process. Somehow, I think this song is going to be part of my healing.

Here's the thing. When the lyrics ask that question, "When you're alone, do you like you?" my answer is yes. Confident, loud, YES. I have a kick-ass and beautiful soul. And while I can logically tell myself that my body is an extension of that awesomeness, it's still hard for me to see it, especially in pictures. I've made strides, at least, in terms of my reflection in the mirror. When I'm strolling down the street (insert Pete the Cat lyrics stuck in your head the rest of the day - you're welcome), I feel good. I feel strong and fit and like I look good. Same thing, now, when I look in the mirror. I'm learning to focus on the good and eventually see it as all good. But then a picture pops up with a less-than-flattering angle or double chin or flabby arm or whatever and I'm instantly two-feet-tall, thinking, oh.my.gosh.is.that.what.i.look.like?is.that.what.others.see?c.r.a.p.! and so on with the mental spiral. And there you have it - my insecurities and desire for acceptance from others both get me comparing and judging myself and, seriously, what good can come of that? None from what I can see, so the work - the healing - the self-acceptance continues to be part of my life. Part of my process and my practice.

Although the lyrics tell me I don't have to "try so hard" there is still effort involved here. I do have to keep trying to let go of the desire to look a certain way to others. I can't control what they think, anyway, so what I think is what counts. I have to keep telling myself, it's just a picture. It's just a bad angle. It's just a whatever. It's not a true reflection of me, especially if what I feel and see are otherwise. And since what matters on the inside matters most, I know that I need to keep feeding my soul in order to keep my outer shell shining, too. The nice thing is, I have this amazing gig where I get to share my soul and my passion with other people three or four times a week and I get to encourage both them and myself with the mantras and positivity and the radical self-love that accompanies my yoga classes. And it's not just a load of b.s., either. When you hear me talking in class about being strong or awesome or beautiful or loved or in control or that slowing down is the best thing ever, I mean it. For you and for me. I believe what I tell my students and I believe that I need to hear it as much as I need to say it. So I say it.

And the answer to that question remains: Yes, I do like me. And yes, I do like you. Even though this physical body and I are still trying to strike our balance together, I already know I'm on the right path, following the right steps to eventually find that harmony. This acceptance - this authenticity, is what I seek in my life right now. I believe in the good and I look for people who do the same while also remaining open to showing their real selves and their own ups and downs and those will accept me and mine, too. I also work every day to make sure my kids know it's OK to be sad and mad - that it is what you do with it that counts - and that's for the grown ups, too. It's about knowing when you need to slow down or open up or step back from that which no longer serves you. And if wearing masks or worrying about if others think you look fat in a photo no longer serves you, find a way to take it off or see yourself anew. That's what I'll be doing every.damn.day for as long as it takes to just be enough. Thank goodness for the amazing guides and teachers and friends and family I have to walk with me on this journey.

And thank goodness for other seekers out there who acknowledge that we, as women, as moms, as humans, don't have to try so freaking hard. We are who we are. We are enough. And in case you need a wee bit more convincing, watch the video for "Try" - somehow, it wasn't until just today that I searched The Great Google to see if there was a video, and wow, is there a video (and wow did it make tears spring into my eyes). It is so powerful for anyone who has ever struggled with body image or societal pressure (or internal pressure) to fit in, be a certain size, or look a particular way.  Please, take four minutes and watch it, would you? And, fair warning to those of you who come to practice yoga with me - don't be surprised if you hear this song again and again and again; its message is worth repeating and believing, so sharing it is what I will continue to do.