Hopefully God Has a Sense of Humor

I have been really amused by Alice's play of late. She likes to impose herself into various constructs. For instance, while looking at the Where's Santa book my mother-in-law gave her, Alice told me, "I'm the baby rabbit (the book featured baby Loony Tunes characters). When I asked her why she was the rabbit, she replied, "Because I like carrots." When she watches Word World, she tells me, "I'm the duck, you're the sheep, Peanut's the ant, and Daddy's the pig." I find this new practice amusing, but it really cracked me up around Christmas time when Alice discovered the Nativity set.

I waited until right before Christmas to set up the Nativity. I had a feeling I would find the figurines all over the house and I did not want anything broken. While I unwrapped each piece from its protective paper, Alice, of course, came over to investigate. The former teacher in me thought this might be a good "teaching moment" to introduce the concept of religion and the chief players in Christianity. I started with Jesus.

"Alice, this is Jesus," I said, showing her the infant.

"No Mommy. It's Peanut."

No matter how many times I tried to correct her, she kept correcting me. Finally, I decided to see who was who according to the Gospel of Alice. The cast went as follows:

Jesus- Peanut

Mary- me

Joseph- John

Three Wise Men- Alice, Grandma, PopPop

Lamb- Puggie

Cow- Aunt Louise and Uncle Joe (Initially, my sister in law was a little saddened that Alice saw her as part of the cow. I told her it could be worse. She could be part of an ass.)

Shepherd- Aunt Megan

 

Yep, all those years of Catholic school are having such a great effect on my kid.

 

God, I Am an Idiot!

I say the above AT LEAST once a day. I would like to blame things like hormones, sleep deprivation, parenthood, star alignment, and so forth. However, I won't. I will proudly admit that there are just times when I am, in fact, an idiot. Take one minute ago. I decided some hot chocolate would be a nice accompaniment to checking out Facebook and potentially writing on my blog. Poured the milk into the mug and set the microwave for two minutes and thirty seconds. Somehow I pressed twenty-three minutes on the keypad and have for the last five minutes been wondering, "Why are two minutes feeling like five?" Well, the reason for that would be it was five minutes and I am an idiot.

 

My big "God, I am an Idiot" moment of the week occurred yesterday. I decided to clean out the junk drawers in my kitchen. While cleaning, I found the Use and Care Guide to the good cookware I got when John and I got married. After cooking with one of the pans from the set the other day, I realized why I stopped using them. Food stuck to the surface and it was a total bitch to clean. Upon unearthing my guide, I thought, "Cool, maybe I just need to re-season or something." I opened the guide and realized that for the last six years I have been using the pan completely WRONG! Apparently, the pan needs to be heated before even the oil is placed in it. Once the oil is poured in that too needs to be heated before the "real" cooking begins. Talk about wanting to take said pan and just pound it on my head a few times! I followed the guide's directions when making dinner that night and guess what? Nothing stuck. The pan even cleaned up with minimal effort.

 

Yes, I am an idiot!

Namaste My Ass

Ever since Angela's birth, I have been experiencing pretty frequent back and hip pain. At times, the pains are so sharp they cause me to catch my breath. During a routine physical with my doctor, I spoke with her about these newfound aches and pains. Apparently, what I am experiencing is common for post partum women. We are more prone to injury in these areas for a variety of reasons. Additionally, the c-section I had this time around further compromised my core strength. The doctor recommended cardio and exercises to strengthen my core and back. As she spoke, the word "yoga" popped into my mind.

I was not surprised by my mind's solution for curing my aches and pains. I enjoy yoga. I find it profoundly relaxes me and makes me feel great about my body. I like its noncompetitive philosophy and its stress on body acceptance. When I was in my early twenties, I belonged to a yoga studio and learned how to properly do the postures. Eventually work responsibilities made me leave the studio, but I continued to enjoy yoga classes at my gym. Unfortunately, after Alice's birth, yoga fell out of my life. I still went to the gym, but my gym times were dictated by Alice's nap schedule which did not correspond with the yoga classes offered.

This week I started on my back/hip pain solution plan. As per my plan, I would go to the gym and do cardio three days a week and on my off days I would do yoga at home. I picked up some new yoga DVDs from my local library and proceeded to rejoin the world of yoga. My initiation has been pretty hilarious. I don't think the founders of yoga anticipated practicing with a three year old, an eight month old, and a pug underfoot. Here is the breakdown of the degeneration of my quest for inner peace and flexibility:

• The DVD started with breathing exercises to center self. To do these exercises I needed to be prone on my yoga mat. First, I had to fight for position on my yoga mat as Alice decided to "play yoga" with me.
  
• Once Alice and I established our territory, I tried to focus on the instructor's directions. This was difficult due to persistent snoring in my left ear. The pug, curious as to why I was laying down on the floor, came to investigate. Since ears are a fetish for her, I then had to spend a few minutes pushing off a pug who decided to lavish my ear with amorous attentions. Angela thought this was hysterical and proceeded to bounce in her bouncer with such intensity that I thought she would shoot out of the thing.
  

• During a forward bend on my left side, I forgot about Angela's grabby arms. She, however, was on the alert and seized my hair as my head sunk downward. I missed a few poses as I gently extricated myself from baby death grip.
  

• A brief glance downward while in tree pose revealed a pug planted at my feet begging for a belly rub.
  

• Downward dog for me meant upward dog for pug as she gave me kisses.
  

• The funniest moment, however, came as I moved out of a forward bend. I looked up to check the screen for the next posture only to find myself face to face with Alice's naked butt. Apparently, the light that salutes me comes from a full moon.
  

Namaste