breathe

One of the things I look forward to the most is my Thursday morning Yoga class.  Michelle is the best teacher, so in order to make it to her early class, I load up my dressed-fed-packed brood at 8:10 am, drop the big kids off at the bus stop (waving 'I love you' til the bus rounds the bend), check in the babies at child-watch ('look bubbles!' and toy distractions as I sneak out and try to ignore the tears), and {finally} enjoy an hour to breathe.

Delightful.

Last night, sleep was alluding my Davis (although he refused his nap, so I'm not sure why).  He was awake for a good portion of the early morning hours, which means he, of course, fell back asleep about 5am and slept until 9am.  I missed yoga.

As a {not very close} substitute, I trudged my babies and mat down to the basement to yoga with a recorded teacher on the DVR.  She's not as good, and, quite frankly, the focus isn't there when young ones are crawling all over your downward dog and piggy backing on you child's pose.  But, what can you do?

I was feeling a little bit sorry for myself until I noticed my Doobie Doo following along.  He had spread out a blanket as a mat and was working his sun salutations with the best of 'em.  "I did it!" he shouted, when he bent over for down dog.  My self-pity melted away in my awe of this cutie and his desire to follow in my footsteps, do the things I do, garner my praise.

My 'class' was cut short by a little body crawling into my lap while I was trying to forward fold.  But, as I lifted her up, and she arched her back toward  my mat for a belly tickle (her favorite giggle pose), I felt like my morning had gone BETTER than planned.  And, my body felt good.  Not because I had been sufficiently able to stretch, but because I took a minute to breathe, to see my children for the wonder that they are, and to just 'be' in this blessed time of my life.

Ahhhh.