Yoga Bare

No, no... before you start wondering if this is "that" type of blog, I was not naked.  My husband insists that I could make quite a bit of money if this were that type of website, but I tell him we should revisit that subject at a later date when my body is back to its former stellar form (My memory is surely biased.)  And by "revisit this subject" I do not mean to imply that there will ever be such a website out there-- especially since my mother, brothers, and various other relatives out there may be reading this-- but sometimes with husbands I've learned that a "maybe later" (especially in the realm of husband-wife exercise) is a lot better received than a resounding "No!"... often followed by a "Who do you think I am? What type of woman do you think you married?  I'm your wife, not some girl you picked up at a college party."  The things we do for love (in this case, let them believe there's a slight chance out there that that particular fantasy might come true...)


So I was not naked, but both of my exercise buddies were.  (and are, as I type this).  Kolbie is going through a phase (if phase can be defined as going on two years now) in which she likes to be naked.  Oh, she'll put her clothes on, but slowly, throughout the morning, they start to come off. Then, after a few hours of me: "Go get dressed, Kolbie" and her: "No, Mommy.  I don't want clothes", she'll put a new outfit on, only to begin slowly shedding it over the next hour or so.  
This morning she started out in a cute little pink dress with purple stockings, but by the time we started our exercise, she had used the bathroom once (and who wants to put back on your stockings after taking them completely off to use the loo?) and within twelve seconds of exercise she discovered that her cute pink dress was getting in the way of her flexibility.  So off it came.
I wish I could strip naked and have increased flexibility, but I think that only works at her age...


Being the good mommy I am, and recognizing that you may be getting bored on day three of the same old exercises, I asked Kolbie what exercise she wanted to do.  Her answer:  eat cereal.  So that we did. Hey, breakfast is important.  By this time Micah had already eaten four breakfasts, so she was impatiently waiting for us.  So I distracted her by giving her breakfast number 5.  But she got distracted during the feeding, turned her head, and breakfast landed all over her pjs.  Which explains why she was naked.  She, at least, was wearing a diaper.


After Kolbie had eaten the standard four bites of her full bowl of cheerios (I will never learn), I repeated my question.  She actually thought about it for a second before opening the game cabinet (which is really the bottom half of the $1100 tv cabinet that my husband fell in love with and insisted on buying about six years ago before middle-class-peons such as ourselves could afford flat screen tvs.  Soon after the purchase, flat screen tvs became affordable, and I have since listened to JMahl complain constantly about why we can't get a wall-mounted flat screen for the living room- to which I reply "because you insisted on buying an $1100 tv cabinet and, by golly, I'm going to get my money's worth!)  and settling on, of all things, yoga.  And before you question how yoga fits in the bottom half of my tv cabinet, I will explain.


You may be already aware that our seven year old son, Mason, was born with bilateral clubfeet.  (Bilateral means Both).  We discovered this via ultrasound when I was 20 weeks pregnant.  If you've been through something similar, you will understand the immense pain, to which little else compares, of knowing that the child you are bringing into the world will be crippled.  All the doctors telling you that "this can be corrected" does not make up for the crushing fear and pain- and guilt- of knowing your child is hurt in this way. You know how when your baby is born you can't help but do the cliche "count fingers, count toes- Perfect!"?  Well, with Mason we didn't get to do this.  Within an hour of his birth (and due to his prematurity, he was whisked away after a quick peep to prove I had a son) his feet were in casts- starting the journey of his lifetime. Literally.


Fast forward through years of casting, minor surgery, bending, braces, more casting, more bending, etc., when Mason was five, we decided to go ahead and try some physical therapy.  We checked with our insurance company and found a local pediatrics PT clinic.  I'm going to name neither the clinic nor the PT, but suffice it to say, it was quite a waste of my 3 day a week, $20 copays.  But, before learning this, I was in the throes of "this is going to help him!" and when the PT suggested we try yoga, I went out and purchased Yoga Pretzels flash cards.  Now-- for the purposes of yoga, well, I guess that's more my fault than the fault of the cards.  But for a fun game with the kiddos- yoga pretzels is the best.  Basically, we take turns picking out brightly colored flashcards of fun yoga positions like "Warrior", "Lizard on a Rock", or "Plank", and having the other person do that position.  Kolbie loves this.  She has better flexibility, but I'm the only one of us that actually follows the step-by-step instructions on the back of the cards.  We intersperse the stretches with relaxing cards like "Elephant Breath" and "Like a Rainbow", and don't really get much exercise or stretching done.  But for the purposes of this blog, it counts! 
(If you prefer exercising with your spouse and don't have yoga cards, the Kama Sutra will work just as well.)


While Kolbie and I opened our minds and released our bodies according to the instructions on the card, Micah crawled around gleefully throwing the flashcards this way and that.  I think her exercise was called something like "scatter the cards as fast as you can before Mommy can get out of that position and pick them back up".  Made for quite the fun time... and messy living room.
Yup- -still some cards under the couch.


In conclusion, I did take some measurements this morning (two days down, I was optimistic), and I have lost 1/2 inch around my waist.  Or maybe I was sucking it in...


P.S.  Since the time of the waste-of-time PT, Mason has gone through major corrective surgery on both feet-- determined to be successful by Dr. Stephen Tuck of Shady Grove Orthopedics-- Strong recommendation!  -- and has been undergoing non-waste-of-time Physical Therapy with Mr. Kelly Sykes of Touchstone Therapy and Wellness.  If you're looking for a great PT, give him a call-- although, he has not yet recommended yoga as a cure for clubfoot.