Yogis Unite

One of my favorite things right now is Zack Kurland's book Morning Yoga Workouts.  You can choose from a bunch of workouts of varying intensities and lengths, which is perfect if you don't have time to squeeze in a full practice but want to stretch or center or whatever.  I do them every night (so much for morning workout).  If it's Eric's turn to put Addie down, I get to do an hour's worth.  If it's my turn, I'll just do twenty minutes.

Addie's been doing yoga with me for a long time.  Well, not "with."  Alongside.  And not really "yoga."  But more like non-stop chatter and fidgeting.  Sometimes I'll abandon my practice and just make up a kid routine that we do together.  But other times, I just let her ramble on beside me while I try to move.  It goes like this.

"Mommy, can I do yoga with you?"

"Mmm-hmmm."  Exhale, inhale, mountain, standing forward bend.

"I'm just going to roll this mat out here right alonside yours and do yoga with you."

"Mmm-hmmm."  Exhale, inhale, upward-facing dog, downward-facing dog.

"Cause I'm really good at yoga.  Except I do kid yoga and you do mommy yoga.  But first I'm just going to roll myself up in my mat like a burrito.  Mommy, can you roll me up like a burrito?  Then I can be all cozy?  And can you get me my babies?  Then we can be all cozy in here together?  And you'll be the grandma bunny, and I'll be the sister bunny, and there will be baby bunnies?  Bor, no!  I'll be the mommy fairy unicorn princess, and you'll be the baby fairy unicorn princess who does yoga, and we will have three sisters?"

"Mommy's doing yoga, Addie.  You'll have to go get your babies by yourself."  Exhale, inhale, lunge, standing forward bend. 

"I guess I don't need my babies.  Now I'm going to do yoga with you.  What's that pose you're doing, mommy?"

"This one's called Warrior, Addie.  See how straight and strong my arms are?"

"I see.  But it doesn't look very hard.  I'm going to do my favorite yoga.  It's hard yoga.  It's called 'Breathe and Calm Down Your Body.'  No, I call it the 'really body calmer.'  See?  All you do is put your foot up like this, and then you can even lick your toes if you want!"

"Addie!  Gross!  We shouldn't put our feet in our mouths!  How did you get your leg up that high?"  Exhale, inhale, crouching mommy, stretching toddler.

"But I can also do this one, mommy!  Look!  I put my head down like this, and stick my leg out and my arms out...oops!  I tooted, mommy!"

"Ew, Addie!  I'm trying to breathe deep!"  Exhale, inhale, giggling mommy, tooting toddler.

"Also, Mommy?  What is that bag on your tummy?"

"What bag?"

"This one--the one on your tummy!"  Grabs mommy's belly roll.

"Oh.  That's my yoga bag, honey.  It helps keep me balanced." 

Exhale, inhale, mommy-gives-up, toddler-wins.

Namaste, Addie.

But...Butt Fat

I've been pretty proud of myself lately for maintaining a good workout schedule and being a little more mindful about what I'm eating (although that week before my period?  All bets are off.  And I mean ALL).  I haven't shed a noticeable amount of weight or anything, but I'm feeling much better, and my clothes aren't quite so tight.  Most important, the stress is way, way under control.

This makes it all the more disappointing when I was bending over the girls' tub tonight, filling it up with water, and all of a sudden realized that Nolie was helping herself into the tub by grabbing on to the oh-so-accessible handles formed by my butt fat.

Suh-weet.

Plus, on top of that, I screeched, "Nolie, quit grabbing my butt fat!"  And being the little idiot parrots that they are, now both girls are running around the house screaming "Butt fat, butt fat, butt fat!"

They are SO grounded.

It's Alive!

I'm alive, I'm alive, I swear it!  I said I was going to write more often, didn't I?  And then I completely disappeared, didn't I?

I'm reminded of that old, old commercial for The Ricky Lake Show where a sassy audience member stands up, head bobbing, and points at the cocky guest, saying, "Someone done lied to you, sister!"

I done lied to you, sisters.

Or, rather, I was fooled.  Fooled into thinking summer had somehow begun.  Or rather, fooled into thinking this summer might be somewhat like summers past, with free time and lolling about.  You non-academics can roll your eyes all you want (we WORK all summer, you want to say.  What do you have to complain about?  Welcome to the real world, muffin!).  But it's been a transition for me, me who has been in school--literally in a school--since I was five.  Me who calculates time by the academic year and not the calendar year, me who still gets excited about buying new school clothes, me who classifies much of the world into "teachers," "students," "colleagues," "staff," and "administrators."  Me not used to working, working, working, no break.

But it hasn't really been all work.  It's just been so nuts it has felt like that.  Since school got out at the beginning of May (see?  There I go again!), I got that article out (tentatively accepted, thank you very much!), went to Tampa, presented another paper at a conference, had family come visit, went to Vegas for a wedding, went to Rhode Island for a week, became full-time single mom when Eric went to Seattle for a week, scraped all the popcorn off of my bedroom ceiling (hate, hate, HATE whoever thought that was a smart idea, to put that crap up there, full of asbestos and dust and mucky-muck) and painted the whole thing a color Addie sweetly refers to as the "color of Nolie's poo."  Also got an MRI on my knee (don't know results yet), my mom has had horrendous knee surgery herself, and Addie's going in for tubes and a sinus sweep on Wednesday.  Most importantly, the stress and weirdness of the last year have somehow dissipated, been washed away, mellowed in the time I've had away from campus.  Hallelulajah for that.

For July, I need to revise the article that has been tentatively accepted, revise another, revise the conference presentation into an article, get a book prospectus out, read another friend's (amazing) book of poetry, and design two courses and a lecture. 

Easy peasy.  Summertime, and the livin's nothing but smooth sailing, baby.  We teachers have it good.

Crap.

Anyway, there's a bit of bragging going on here, too, right?  I'm not really complaining.  Because I'm proud of myself to be working so hard at things I love, and proud to be accomplishing all this, much as I'm a bit overwhelmed and sick of it all.  And I know most of you reading this work your asses off all the time, so you ain't got any pity for me anyway.  And, too, I've been taking a whole lot of time for myself.  Been going to the gym, doing yoga, soaking in the gorgeous beaches of Rhode Island, glorying in the greenness outside my windows, getting massages, cooking, watching tv, reading, spending much time with the girls (completely guilt free, I might add) and generally ignoring my email, this blog, and anything else that doesn't seem completely necessary.   So, I'm good.  Living a full, engaged, slightly nuts life.  But good.

I'm going to start writing more now.  I promise.  :).

Brownie Out

Our next-door neighboor Bill is retired, and in addition to maintaining an impeccably beautiful lawn and Alice-in-Wonderland-like garden outside my window, he also spends a good portion of his time crafting gorgeous wood furniture.  There was a neighborhood yard sale last summer, when we first got here, and I coveted a table and chairs set he had made, but at the time we didn't feel we could shell out the $150 he wanted for it (and deserved).

Anyway, Eric came in from working in the yard this weekend and said, "Hey!  Bill is going to give us that teeter-totter he made."  I couldn't believe it.  He made this teeter-totter, with hand-crafted horseheads for decoration, last year.  And now he was giving it to us?  I was touched beyond belief.  And the girls love it. "You'll have to make him cookies," Eric said.

Because, let's face it.  When it comes to crafts/baking/handiwork, a batch of chocolate chip cookies is just about the pinnacle of my achievements.  What's not to like?  They're easy to make, bake up in ten minutes, and you can say they're homemade.  But for that reason, they're not exactly impressive, either.  They're not exactly a handmade teeter-totter.

Still, I am what I am.  Baking is it for me, given my limited time and abilities.  So!  Addie and I waited until Nolie went to bed last night and then decided to bake up a homemade batch of brownies, complete with buttercream frosting.  Still not teeter-totter worthy, but a little closer.

Here is what I learned:

1)  Holy cow, they do not call it buttercream frosting for nothing!  I put two sticks of butter in there, along with milk, melted chocolate, cups of sugar and cocoa.  This was a huge eye-opener for me.  I have been known to eat a half-carton of Duncan Hines frosting in one sitting.  With a spoon.  Now that I've seen what goes into those things, never again.  I am still reeling from the sight of all that butter, whipping into a froth.  Yowza.

2)  I think it matters that they were homemade.  Yes, they were just brownies, but it took a good two hours to make them and clean up and then plate them all pretty this morning.  I'm glad I went through the from-scratch exercise, because next time someone brings us something homemade, I will have much more appreciation for the work that went in to making them.

3)  It also matters that they were for a friend.  Addie kept trying to cut deals while we were making them, like, "Mom?  Couldn't we just make Bill cookies and keep the brownies for ourselves?"  For a second, I was tempted.  These brownies were no joke yummy-wise, and Bill would never have known if we did the swap-out.  But it was good to make something delicious knowing somebody we love would enjoy them.  So over to his house they went this morning, and after complaining we were giving him a sugar attack, he ate one and fell in love with us forever.  Definitely worth it.

Leave it to me to read so much meaning into a batch of brownies.  But I can't help it.  This whole knowing more about food thing is useful, and interesting.  Spending those two hours on the brownies is what the extra hours of summer daylight are all about.

It seems like all I write on this blog is how busy I am, how stressed.  Frantic, frantic, frantic.  Blah, blah, blah.  How tiresome.

It would be interesting to write, instead, about how rich it all is, how filled with new experiences, and how happy and grateful I am for this.  Because that is what really goes on.  Blessing upon blessing is heaped upon my head, and I live fully every one of them, and love them all.  Don't believe my bitching for one minute.

Take the last three weeks, for example.  Those weeks that happened after the semester ended and my time shifted.  In those weeks, I had divine experiences floating in the gulf of Mexico; I saw my brother get married in a lovely, seven-minute Vegas ceremony (during which Nolie pooped, and announced that fact to all in the chapel.  Swell); I finished a paper and got it sent off for review (again.  Man).  We had a lovely, crazy visit from Steve and Julie and their beautiful little ones Gwen and Raiff.

And I have spent days with my kids.  Daycares have been closed as they make their transition to summer camps, and rather than kill myself trying to find alternate care, I've decided to mom up.  So I've had more time with these little ones in one long stretch than I've had in a year.  Maybe more.  I think in the past I might have dreaded this a little, wondered what I would do with the kids for so much time.  Definitely would have felt stressed about not working for that long.

But it was absolutely delightful.  I just gave myself over to it, didn't set any crazy agendas, and rediscovered my children.  We remade some of our ways of interacting, and felt our love for one another deepen.  We had a chance to interact without the stress of scheduling and expectations.  We swam.  We went to the aquarium.  We read books and hung out and did art.

This also coincided with my starting to work out again.  This seems to be a pattern for me--get in shape in the summer, then treat my body like a turd for nine months while the school year consumes me.  Would be nice to rethink that pattern.  In any case, I am way happier when I care for myself physically.

It also helped that I was 100% completely, totally, globally fed up with work, and didn't mind taking some time off from it.  Didn't miss it.  Briefly flirted with the idea of being a stay-at-home mom.  Am still flirting with it, to be honest, but maybe not so seriously.  I'm pretty excited to do some of the projects I have planned for July.

But for now I have the taste of a slower, sweeter motherhood on my lips, and I liked it.  I'll be thinking about how to taste it more often even when I go back to work.  Sweeeeeet nectar cheese.  Yum.

Restored to Self

Addie's questioning--which is incessant, in typicaly four-year-old fashion--falls along these lines, lately:

1.  Is infinity really a number?

2.  Do you want to play pony princess fairy unicorn, and I'll be the mommy pony princess fairy unicorn, and you can be the baby pony princess fairy unicorn, and you have to do everything I say?

3.  Why did you say mailman, mommy?  It could be a woman!  You should say mail "person," right?

4.  (In every room we enter, ever):  Is that the smoke detector, mommy?  Or is that the fire alarm?  Is it going to go off while we're in here?  What will we do if it goes off?  Does the smoke make the fire alarm go off, or does the fire make the smoke alarm go off?  How do I make it make the sound?  I don't want it to make the sound!

You get the point.  She is this remarkable mish-mash of sage and naif, roaming through the world with fresh eyes and new preconceptions, and you never know which you'll get.  Sometimes I forget how little she is, and then I'll call home, and she'll answer the phone, and I hear her sweet little baby voice still, with the lisp, and her tendency to say "or" as "bor."  She's slipping through my fingers, that one, no matter how tight I hold on.


Florida was amazing, by the way.  I was baptized in the gulf, it's bright blue waters warm, waves bobbing me up and down and washing away every last bit of self-pity, angst, and stress left in me.  I cried into its waters and laughed after at how fast the past year rolled off my skin.  I spent 48 hours with women who were totally different from one another, who had experienced immense and various heartbreaks, and who still loved each other unconditionally.  There was nothing catty or manipulative that I could see, and that was also a cause for healing and celebration, to be around people who were not trying to change one another or guess what one would do next. 

As promised, I returned home able to see my husband and children again, to enjoy them, and to laugh.  There is no better gift.  THANK you to everyone who made it happen (you know who you are). 

Mother's Day Gift

I had a perfectly lovely Mother's Day, thank you, with breakfast in bed and a bbq at a friend's house, and lots of hugs and kisses. Addie sang me this song all week:

Mamita, mamita de mi corazon
Yo te quiero mucho con todo mi amor

(Mommy, mommy of my heart
I love you so much with all of my love)

and informed me last night as I was putting her to bed that she was going to come to my room every day for the next two weeks and wake me up by singing it to me. Which I'm only moderately excited about.

The only bummer about the whole things is that, ever since Sunday, Nolie seems to be throwing herself full-bore into the terrible twos (which are not set to officially begin for a few more months, so she's being a bit of an over-achiever there). Basically, this means that she has not stopped screeching for the past 48 hours.

It's horrible.

Nolie: "Boosh! Peease! Now!"
Me: "Here's your juice. Where does this 'now' stuff come from?"
Nolie: Nooooooooooooooo! No boooooooooooooooooooooosh! (Throws juice cup on floor and collapses in screeching heap.)
Me (stepping over overwrought toddler on floor): "Geez."
Nolie: "Nooooooooooooooo! No geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez!"

It's a good thing this is the second child, and so I know that this crap will pass in a few weeks. Otherwise I'd be having a serious freakout.