Writing and editing
categories: Ashtanga yoga, AYCT, baby

We arrived in Tulum on Saturday night. We were in a shit sandwich on the plane. The middle-aged guy in front of us had a 16 year-old girlfriend, and kept looking back angrily when Holden would make the smallest sound. He dates babies – he should be used to it. The mother behind us offered us a book when Holden was fussy. I told her he was a bit young – meaning 5 months is a bit young to settle with a book. She said, “Oh, well I always read to my boys when they were that age.” I felt such a surge of indignant rage – “I do read to him!” Then I realized how uptight I was and have been for the past month. Honestly, getting snippy and self-righteous about reading books to your infant is something only a white person would do. Although, I did feel like a better person when she later yelled at her kids and told her husband to shut up.

God, I really need this vacation.

And it is unbelievably beautiful here. Our little hut looks out on the ocean. We fall asleep listening to the waves crashing. Last night, David and I put Holden to bed and then lay down on a beach chair and looked at the stars, like millions of bright freckles in the sky. I only wore my shoes once yesterday. Everyone on the retreat is so lovely. We are having the best time.

They eat late here. Actually, that is a lie. They eat at a normal hour, and I am used to eating at seniors’s hour, so by the time 7p rolls around David and I are like a pair of hungry ghosts waiting anxiously by the buffet table. “Can we just start?”

We haven’t managed to convince the staff to make dinner at 4, but we did cajole them into coffee at 6am. Coffee after practice on while you are on vacation is just rude.

David took this shot of Holden Owl, baby model. Mosquito nets are very good for photography.

And then I took this picture of David and Holden.

Doesn’t this look like a soap commercial or something? My family is beautiful.

Next update: Tulum and fat baby on the beach.

Last week I was puked on before going into practice. I just kinda wiped it off and carried on. I don’t really have a pukey baby, but the other day he puked three times on the same sweater and I kept just kinda wiping it off. After the third time, I sniffed the air and – big surprise! – I totally smelled like puke. Is there some switch that goes off in your head when you become a mother that makes you indifferent to disgusting things (like puke on your clothes). I actually feel an incredible surge of happiness when I see Holden’s diaper is filled with poo. What is that? Gross.

The Jolly Jumper is still a shirt and tie. I have called Sears a few times now, and no one seems mystified that I received a shirt and tie with a sticker on it that says “Exercise Jumper”. The other night we heard a knock at the door and David sprang up, “JOLLY JUMPER!” We raced to the door and this is what came:

Better than a shirt and tie, but still difficult to modify into a Jolly Jumper. I decided to go to the Sears outpost station, which really makes me feel like I live in a Northern city, and return the shirt and tie. Jolly Jumper ETA = this Wednesday. Cross your puke covered fingers.

Holy, I am the worst blogger ever. I should really be listening to the results of the poll and reflecting on my practice – but honestly making time for the actual practice requires so much of my energy, I feel tired just thinking about blabbing on about what hurts. Well, Ok – I can say this: what has really been busting my boobs about this practice is the dailyness. Without regular sleep, I feel like every morning I wake up in horror to realize that it is time to get up and go into practice AGAIN. This whole thing is so Sisyphean. Sometimes, David will tell me it is OK to take a day off and relax, which if you practice at AYCT is not exactly his MO. But I’m so stubborn, or attached, or crazy – I feel I am obliged to go in.

David said this was his favourite interview: Shivers up my Spine. That makes it sound like he is interviewed all the time – which he isn’t really. But I do want him to start up a mysore consulting business. Dude had 110 students today in morning mysore. Anyway, I was initially daunted by the length of this article because I can only read things that are 100 words or less and contain pictures, plus I actually heard the entire conversation while I was nursing the baby. Still, Priya did a great job, and my hubby is quite articulate.


And I promise to be a better blogger.

Tonight as I was putting young Holden to bed there was a bang at the door and I heard the sound of a van driving quickly away. David opened the door and found a package from Sears. We have been waiting for our Jolly Jumper to come for a few weeks now, and I was even bragging about it in my mom’s group. The package looked suspiciously small, but the two of us were pretty excited and we promised Holden he could try it out before bed as his dad ripped open the envelope.

David pulled out of the package: a dress shirt with a purple striped tie.

You know that moment when something is obviously wrong – but you just sort of think maybe it is just you. Like some kind of trick your eyes are playing on you. Somehow, you could pull out the tie and it would turn into a Jolly Jumper because – hey! – you’ve been wrong about things before.

David: Ugghhh.. It says “Hanging Exercise Jumper” on the sticker. Is this a Jolly Jumper?”

Stan: Ummm…. Let’s see….

No, Jesus Christ. No. It is a shirt and tie. There is really no need for further inspection. You can’t squint your eyes and make this a Jolly Jumper. It isn’t Jolly Jumper: The Business Casual Edition. It really is a suit and tie.

And then you feel like an ass. Sears got you all hopeful and optimistic. You could point to something on your computer and then the perfect right thing would appear on your doorstep, like a beautiful dream. The Sears Fairy who knows just what you need. But now you suspect is all a rouse to make you spend your money and your energy getting snippy with the Sears customer service reps.

I called Sears and I spoke to a nice woman who laughed when I told her the story. She laughed, I laughed. I thought it was going really well, but then she hung up on me.

I hope I get this Jolly Jumper.

My son has started to screech horribly all day. By 6 o’clock I feel like my eardrums have been pierced with knitting needles and only mountains of dessert will make the pain go away. We call him pterodactyl. When I googled images of baby pterodactyls several pictures of screaming babies came up. I guess it is a thing.

I love how everyone is so nice about it:


“Oh! Wow! He is vocal, huh?”


“He is really finding his voice – so great!”


“He really wants to say something.”

My practice? Actually, it feels pretty good. I feel all light and jumpy again. Even though today I started my practice weeping and finished holding my face in my hands in fetal position for three seconds before leaping out of the room, it was a good day. It is starting to come back.

I’m still recovering from the Olympics. Holden has been waking up during the night every hour or so to eat and I am a total zombie. On Tuesday night, I felt I had reached a whole new level of sleep deprivation past the angry and sad phase and through “I can’t process information” phase into a totally new feeling where it actually hurt to move my limbs. Waking up to feed him, my shoulder would seize and my whole body was just wracked with soreness – like I had sprained every joint. So, I tried feeding him homemade rice cereal at night. Great success. I got four uninterrupted hours. Today, I swear I leapt onto my mat. Baby is certainly going to Harvard.

Super genius!

So, the Olympics! A mother of three won the Uth pluthi contest, and the prize was, of course, the Guruji book. The person who almost beat her, was a father of three who I don’t think was close to doing full lotus last year. It was pretty fantastic.  It made me feel all melty and happy. We had a downward dog chain race, a contest to see who could do the most garbha revolutions in 3 minutes (thank you LI Ashtangini – it was so freaking hilarious), and a utthita hasta padangusthasana c competitiion. The amazing winner of the garbha contest skinned his back – but other than that everyone came away unscathed.

Holden dressed up as his dad for Hallowe’en.

(photo by Sergio Lasky)

And we raised enough money to adopt another animal from Farm Sanctuary with left over to put towards a smaller animal or an emergency animal fund. Or Sprinkles’ dolla necklace. Tim was amazing, as usual, and we worked him to the bone. The photos came out gorgeous.

I was going through some of the videos of the adoptable animals and I came across this one of Angelo. Watch for Sprinnkles’ cameo appearance and careful your head doesn’t explode with happiness.

YouTube Preview Image

Yesterday, I went on a nature walk with a tree enthusiast in High Park and Holden and I learned so much. Philip raced around picking up leaves and bits of grass answering all of our questions. I can distinguish red, white and black oak trees, I learned why people are compelled to mow their lawns, and Philip gave me bird seed and a chickadee landed on my hand and delicately picked out a seed. Let me repeat that: A bird landed on my hand. Wild bird. My hand. Landed. I’m Snow White.