Writing and editing

Friday is a full moon day, which means no practice. Ordinarily, that would be two days off but Sharath has a family function on Sunday and so we are practicing on Saturday instead. This will make it the second Saturday this trip that I have done led primary. I’m not complaining, (Ok I am) but they are really bucking tradition here. I momentarily thought I would skip Saturday practice and practice in the hotel on Sunday, like many of the students here. But it does seem silly to come all this way and then practice by myself. I’m sure I won’t burst into flames or anything if I practice on Saturday. Although, the thought of led primary…ugh. I would rather scrape my nose along the sidewalk for a mile.

The Baby is still not sleeping. Yesterday, I was going to blog, but I decided to shelf my draft and sleep (or not sleep) on it and I’m glad I did. Geez. I really have the whole cycle of blame thing worked out. I wonder what it would be like if I didn’t practice – I think I might be a monster. Or as Paul and Rachelle Gold call it “a reaction machine”. So, the first stage is always self doubt:  I am the worst parent, I have made millions of mistakes and now my baby will never be happy again. And then the blame turns outward: Why am I here with The Baby? Why must everyone here scream at each other? What is with the eternal beeping of horns? And why can our neighbours not PICK UP their furniture before moving it around the room (I guess if you are constantly moving it, you would be too tired to lift it up).

Anyway, today I am feeling better. Still very little sleep but I drank an amazing amount of coffee, and if I just top myself up with sugar and chocolate I can ride out the day nicely. Self medication is the best.

You know what is also the best:  our Ergo carrier. It has been incredible and so comfortable.  I can carry him for hours in it. It was recommended to us by two amazing moms – Jill and Sadie. thank you, thank you!

Plus it goes well with big sunglasses.

Here is Holden in the Rickshaw:

Practice notes

I am still working on the mula bandha technique as outlined in the previous post. It is hard. I am really in the habit of lifting the pelvic floor which is an entirely different and less subtle action. Sharath told me on Wednesday that next week I would be doing “More”. I think that refers to backbending. Next week is my last, I’m not sure how much “more” backbending I can do. I still get  a kinda icky stretching feeling in the front of my body when I backbend, probably post-surgery angst. Forza!

Ok. So I did a little poll a while ago, and it turns out no one wants to hear about sleep deprivation. And I totally get it. Most people don’t sleep as much as they should/want to. Before I became a mom, I certainly had bouts of staring at the ceiling for hours trying to count myself to sleep. Ever since Holden was born, when non-parents tell me they didn’t sleep – my first instinct is to say, “But no one was FORCING you to stay up!” Parenthood is really good for curing insomnia. Well, until they learn how to drive.

Sleep is my current obsession. I guess everyone is different. Holden has many amazing qualities. But being a good sleeper is not one of them. We are working on helping him sleep through the night. Last night we made it with only two wake-ups which I don’t think I have had in months. It was good. And sad that it was good.

When I meet parents of babies – I always ask, “How is the sleeping”. And sometimes they just sort-of shrug and say, ‘Oh, well he/she sleeps 12 hours at night.” And I feel murderous rage and go over the variables. Is it the breastfeeding? sleeping with us? the bed? the moon? the teething? too much food? too little food? the never-ending practice crawling?

Today we met the parents of a 6 year-old. David asked, “How is the sleeping?” She laughed. “What sleeping?” My first reaction, because I am so nice, was “Ha! they have it worse!” But then upon reflection, I realize: “Oh my god. That could be me in 5 years.”

I might have to be institutionalized.

That is the other thing about parenthood. It makes you really respect your parents. There is nothing quite like watching the sun come up and realizing, with horror, that a) you spent most of the night trying unsuccessfully to get someone to sleep and b) in the morning it won’t just be you and the baby and you won’t feel like a complete psycho.

So, that is where I am at. It is totally not exciting or interesting or unusual. Thank you for indulging me!

The Part Where I Write About Ashtanga

On Sunday, we had conference and Sharath spoke about drishti. He told us, when in doubt, use nasagrai (tio of your nose) drishti. Nasagrai is really my least favourite focusing point because it makes me feel cross-eyed and funny. Since I am filled with doubt I practiced with his advice in mind. Wow. I got over the nerdy feeling pretty quickly and it made my practice really different. I am a believer.

Also in conference:

Young Man: Sharath, do you have to believe in God to practice Ashtanga?

Sharath: (baffled slightly) Yes. Why else are you here?

Huzzah! That’s what I’m talking about!

Today we watched this incredibly cute video of victims of human trafficking learning Ashtanga Yoga made by the great people at Yoga Stops Traffick. We were there last year in Mysore, and this year we hope to do something at AYCT. Enjoy!

YouTube Preview Image

Place: Wednesday Mom’s Group

Discussion: Sleep

Mom #1: I only get up twice during the night.

Mom #2: Yes me too – my baby is a good sleeper.

Mom #3: I sometimes get up 3 times during the night because he is so big, but he goes right back to sleep (HInt: this mom’s name rhymes with can).

Mom #1: I feel fine – it is has a couple months, but I don’t think it is that bad.

Mom #2: I feel great too.

Mom #3: I could do it for another 2 months for sure – I’m totally rested.

Mom #1 and #2: (nod in agreement)

Good things about Mom’s Group: Babies, fantastic moms, and a support system of people who really understand everything you are going through.

Bad thing about Mom’s Group: The support system consists of people who equally as psychotically sleep-deprived as you.

I’m past that point of sleep deprivation that makes me feel like an evil hulking pit of darkness, but I think I’m in a new stage of – Hey! this sleep deprivation stuff is great! Fantastic! No Problem! Easy-Peasy! Piece of Cake! What’s my name again? Here’s a short list of some of the things I have noticed this week.

1. I don’t do basic math anymore, when a question that involves math comes up – like, “How many days until Thanksgiving?” I kinda “Oh, yeah! Thanksgiving! Soonish, Yes? Many days! Counting? Where is that calendar? Oh, maybe foufivsixish? Monday!”

2. I’ve become completely convinced of the erroneous assumption that eating = sleep.. Most of my life is spent in front of the fridge thinking, “Gosh – I’m sleepy – maybe a radish will help! What? I don’t need a nap! Pass the peanut butter.”

3. I have acquired a super human ability to sleep under any circumstances. I used to need my sheets to be just so, lying on my back or side and David couldn’t be touching me. Now I think I could sleep with an anvil on top of me.

4. Moon days every two weeks? What is that all about? Someone clearly evil decided to fuck with me and my baby’s sleep routine and make one week a never-ending and the other week with an awkward break in which my baby is suddenly expected to stay up late and sleep-in for only one day, and, of course, he never can. Total rubbish that whole householder stuff.

That said, I am really grateful for this coming moon day.

Holden slept 6 hours on Saturday night. I woke up with a start thinking for sure he was dead. I think I might have woken him up when I leaned over him to check to see if he was still breathing. 6 hours. My mind started racing – could I possibly try to sleep 2 more hours during the day to make it a full 8? 8 hours in one day would be like a normal person, and then I might start behaving like a normal person!

I didn’t get the extra two hours, so I’m still a big unsocialized weirdo, but thankfully my family and friends are understanding.

I told everyone I knew yesterday that Little Owl slept 6 hours. Every conversation went something like this:

Friend/family member: Hi.How are you?

Stan: Holden slept 6 hours!

David said all the moms respond like the baby got into Harvard, and it is true. I could replace “slept 6 hours” with “got into Harvard”.

S: Holden got into Harvard!

F: What! That is terrific. My baby only got into Harvard at 6 months.

— or —

F: Wow! My baby never got into Harvard!

— or —

F: Holden got into Harvard? You are doing a really good job?

I heard my mother on the telephone with friend yesterday;

Mom: Hello?…..Oh Hi! Holden got into Harvard last night!

Apparently, Harvard checked my bank balance, because during the night they decided he isn’t going after all. What would 2 hours be? Community college?

He smiles now – obviously ready for the Ivy League!

Practice Notes:

This morning, I heard Mercedes leave with David and I realized I had missed an opportunity to practice at the studio. I got on the mat and the day stretched out before me long and unbroken, and I suddenly started to cry. Like a dark cloud passing, it was over just as quickly as it started and I was left sitting on the mat wide-eyed and listening to Holden cooing himself awake in the next room.

I decided I would write a screenplay about a woman who spent her days alone with her baby (Ok – this is really not at all true of me, my family is amazingly supportive) because her husband is a high powered something or other (Hahaha!). Her left side begins to get overdeveloped because she is carrying a 75 lb baby around all the time and her right side withers because it is only used to shovel food in her mouth (Ok – this is a distinct possibility for me). She starts having delusions about her baby getting accepted into Havard. Then in a strange and horrible twist of fate, she goes so crazy about the Havard thing that Child Services takes the baby away and gives him to the next door neighbours. She spends the rest of her life picking her baby’s cigarette butts out of her flower garden and listening to his adoptive parents call him “Faggot”.

The end!

categories: AYCT, Pregnancy
tags: , ,

Today, Jeffrey looked out the windows at the sky and said, “That is a beautiful grey.”

But today felt like a slow moving, heavy grey day. I know it is spring, but the weighty, tiredness in the air made it seem like mid-November. It is Tuesday: inauspicious, no-pose giving, too close to the beginning of the week, not far enough towards the end of the week, all purply-grey Tuesday. I heaved myself around my mat this morning, and I have been stomping around carrying my belly for the whole day. The floorboards sink and creak under my feet.

I wonder if tomorrow I will feel a little springer? If the green shoots in the garden will cancel out the grey and make if feel more like March again. Maybe I will call it a day now, tuck myself into bed and listen to the sounds of our towels rolling around in the dryer and the cat softly pad-padding up and down the stairs. I’ll fall asleep with a book still in my hands, a sentence carrying me off on a dream. Sshhh…don’t wake the pregzilla!