My “resolutions” for the New Year are few. In addition to learning from my 2015 mistakes, of which there are many, my non-personal betterment goals included “read a (non-children’s) book” and “get back into yoga”.
I used to have my sun salutations on-point and between the occasional group class and in-home practice, I had a pretty decent go of it for a while. Needless to say, four years and two kids later, a lot has fallen by the wayside, including this.
Suddenly, I’m remembering why I needed to stretch in the first place. When the sound of your own joints poppin’ and lockin’ wake your baby as you get up out of the rocker, you’re either ready to be celebrated by Willard Scott or you really need to get loose.
I was all ready to get back into the yoga swing, when I realized the other night that perhaps I haven’t been out of the game completely.
There are variations every day, without my even knowing…
Downward Facing Diaper: When your body inverts to a 45 degree angle as you attempt to change baby on a surface uncomfortably lower than is advisable, as your lower back spasms in protest.
Cat-Cow: The dual positions where you alternately arch and round your back on all fours looking all over for the binky that has been thrown to some unknown and unreachable place under the crib.
Chair (or “Scare”) Pose: Upon finally getting baby to sleep, you attempt to extract yourself from the crib where you were patting/soothing child, only to make a noise that rustles them. As you stand upright, immediately freeze in the most unnatural position you can think of, legs still bent in seated position, hands up in the air to not knock crib. Pause in fright, hold breath until your thighs burn and you believe it’s safe to exit the room.
Triangle Pose: Feel that stretch as you bend deep to the ground to pick up spoon covered in mashed peaches before your preschooler steps on it/the cat eats it, while extending your opposite arm high in the air, holding not-yet-strapped-in baby in the high chair
Child’s Pose: Which can also be read as “I have children and sometimes the only escape I can take is literally laying face-down on the carpet with my arms over my head”.