Oh My GOSH Ohanepecosh!

It is Saturday morning. woke up at 5:45 - really by choice. It is my first day with no obligations until this evening when my dad is coming to dinner. I want to make the most of it. I am reading This Homemade Life - one of my favorite genres, food memoirs, the theme always the same - little stories of the author's life with recipes intertwined. I was lying in bed crying. I finished the chapter of the death of her father and the recipe is one she prepares lovingly the last few weeks before he succumbs to cancer - an egg dish. I asked Shawn if he would make me an omelet this morning. He lovingly obliged. Fresh basil, tomatoes, and mozzarella with day-old crusty artisan bread. Could you ask for anything better?

I plan to garden this morning. I haven't spent ANY time in my garden. While I vowed not to plant one next year, I do have one to tend to this year. Lovingly tend? No, absent-mindedly neglect more like. But I did harvest a lot of snap peas and I am going to yank them and plant pumpkin seeds. Shawn is making fun of me saying they will never grow by Halloween, but it is the only thing the kids asked for in the garden, so I will attempt to honor their sweet request.

Last night Shawn and I watched The Road. I have been avoiding renting it for months. With dark, intense movies that I really do want to watch (such as Precious, which I still haven't worked my way up to) I have to find a framework of one concept and block out the rest. I knew from reading the book it was at its core, a relationship between father and son. When I went to Redbox yesterday (Barbie, of course, for the girls) I decided I was ready. Sure enough, when you view something in the context in which you want to see it, it is slightly less intense. I cried through out - for the sheer beauty of the relationship. It did not disappoint and I found it to be one of the most moving tributes to the father/son relationship ever to be viewed. I absolutely loved it, painful and emotional as it was.

It has been a good few weeks. My mindset shifted on our camping trip with our dear friends to Ohanepecosh two weekends ago. We took the RV and piled in 5 kids and 2 couples and off we went repeatedly exclaiming, " OH MY GOSH OHANEPECOSH!" In between the Moscow Mules (my new summer cocktail) gourmet fish tacos on the open fire, a delightful hike to Silver Falls, skinny-dipping in the stream (kids only), my friend and I broke it down by the campfire. She revealed two things: I haven't owned up to working and I need to hire more babysitters. I have been so attached to this concept of "riding it out" this summer with the studio, but in reality I can't ride it out. It requires my attention and I have been eeking out barely enough time for it so I don't sacrifice the kids' summer. Way too high of expectation. I have had more help this past week and it made all of the difference. I even treated myself to a massage and wine and more breaking it down with said friend over rose at Gilbert Cellars.

Those who know us to our core, like she does, can readily observe and share those areas in our life where we struggle but don't necessarily see (or own up to) ourselves. I am greatful for her insight, laughter, feisty-ness, and honesty. Our bond is unique as we have been friends from birth and remarkably, our daughters are proving to be steadfast friends as well. We decided it was genetic. Our mothers remain as tight as ever and we all love watching the third generation develop this bond as well. I will be devastated when she leaves next week, but we will always have our weeks of summer in Yakima.

Hello Out There...

Is it just me or is anyone else finding the grind of summer exhausting? Seriously. If you are out there, please let me know as I am starting to really doubt my parenting skills. I think the memory of youth I am trying to recreate maybe happened to me beginning at the age of 7 or 8, not 4. Between teaching, prepping to teach (under great duress as I never leave myself enough time), fulfilling the studio obligations (kind of), squeezing in an occasional walk/yoga practice, running a household and most importantly refereeing/ entertaining the kids, I am running all day long. How well am I really doing any of these things? When I feel great about teaching yoga, I don't feel so good about parenting. When my parenting is on, my yoga life is off. How does one strike a balance anyways? Or is it just me? and if it is just me, what is it that prevents me from achieving balance? One of my favorite Desikichar quotes is "the goal of yoga is to act in such a way that all of our attention is directed towards the activity in which we are currently engaged" When I am at the yoga studio I could not be more fully present. It is my reward for teaching. I am in the moment. I am engaged with the activity. At home? Aren't we pulled TNE THOUSAND different directions? My kids need something (mostly my attention - and lots of it), meals to be made, laundry, bills, phone calls, gardening, yard work, and on and on and ON. I rarely feel connected with one task. I clearly am falling short of of practicing what I preach.

I finished teaching at noon. Returned home to STARVING children and a hungry mom - me. Got us all fed, we sat down read a few books, sent them to different rooms for some quiet time ( Piper and Ivy really have a hard time being away from each other, they sneaked into the playroom together after about 10 minutes) Ellie helped me empty the dishwasher (she is such a great little helper), did the dishes - breakfast and lunch, returned a few calls, attempted to tackle the blueberries we picked yesterday-wash, sort and freeze, my mother in law dropped off the beets she is growing for me since mine didn't come up, put them in the pile with the blueberries and now my CSA delivery (at this point...seriously, what is wrong with Safeway??) then off to swim. Could have skipped that. Ellie wasn't feeling well and sure enough, the highlight of my day, she started puking on the way home and poor thing, just let her rip. She is asleep now, but something tells me it ain't over. Got dinner, lost it with Piper, sent her to time-out, fed them, fed myself, emptied Ellie's puke bucket, and at 7:30 Shawn got home and I hit the couch to blog and try and figure this whole thing out....is this just life with 3 kids? Do I make our lives harder than they need to be? (yes, I already know that...too many expectations, but I am working on it.)

How do you practice what you preach? I did one of my favorite breathing exercises in class today: "breathing in compassion, breathing out expectations" and revisited the brahmaviharas (pathways for developing more loving relationships with ourselves and others - today I talked about compassion. ) I have cycled right back to where I started: overwhelmed with my obligations, underwhelmed with my role as a parent, loving my kids to DEATH, but yet doubting my ability to raise them well and yet knowing that this is my yoga - finding the balance because this is IT. This is my life, one shot, one moment, one opportunity......

Better sort those blueberries.

Realism

It is Friday evening - 8:20. Kids in bed, hubby out of town and I told myself I would watch a movie or a show. I use to live for movies. I think because I go to bed so early that when it comes right down to it, it simply gets to be too late. I can't remember if I already blogged about this, but a yoga teacher, Max Strom, said to watch the news once a week. I use to watch the Today show every morning. When you tune out, you get to the point where you can't even tune in - not even for 5 minutes. It is so depressing. I don't feel like I am missing out. Really, the only thing that I ever really followed were the human interest stories anyways. Maybe I pretended to tune in to the latest political outrage, but in reality, I didn't. Even now, I ALWAYS flip to the very last pages of the Time magazine - the human interest section - the movies, books, etc. I think I already consciously know there aren't a ton of good movies out there that I am missing. I LOVE a good movie, but how often does that happen? Like the news, if it doesn't capture the human experience (in a positive light), I am out. I would rather read my book (except I fall asleep). So sad.

I saw a fantastic movie a few weeks ago - Mother and Child. So wonderfully acted, so beautifully told. Annette Bening and Naomi Watts are the adoptive mother and daughter who never meet and spend a solid portion of their lives mourning the loss. It was so.....real. Does that make me a realist? In fact, pre-kids I would thrive on those dark, depressing, intense films that just dove right into the harsh reality of life. I am not much of an escapist - seldom do I really like a mindless chick flick, but the problem is I can no longer watch many of the art films, so maybe that is why when it comes down to it, I don't watch many movies. Then again, maybe I just know our routine - early risers and busy days. A realist.

We were in San Diego over the 4th. My sis in law went all out - she was such a gracious hostess and stocked the house with lots of food and beer - and just went with the flow as we overran her newly remodeled beautiful, modern home. My niece and nephew have to be two of the nicest kids I have ever been around. I am not saying that as their aunt, I am saying that as an admirer of good parenting. They are a direct product of amazing parents - loving, involved, dedicated, and above all else CONSISTENT. I have been floundering in the consistency department this summer - (gonna get right back on that tomorrow). My sis in law took it even a notch higher than food and beer and scheduled a private yoga lesson on the bluff overlooking La Jolla (fabulous). We spent a day at the beach, eating, drinking, talking, FRYING ourselves and laughing at Jeff who said he got stung by a sting ray (he did). We spent a looong day at the zoo, adults drinking margaritas, kids just powering though - animal after animal - (the difference between traveling with 4 year olds as opposed to 3 year olds, is mind-boggling). We hung out at a neighborhood block party and just rocked out to my brother's band ( WTF? Seriously. How can one sibling get all of the talent? No offense to my younger brother - we certainly have our strengths, but playing in a rock band and leading trauma surgeons are not among them...where does that talent come from?? Why wasn't it more equally distributed?) We watched fireworks from their deck and the kids spent endless hours in the hot tub and pool. My other sis in law and I snuck out to Nordstrom Rack and went on a manic shopping spree ( I actually might have drooled at one point...oh the things I miss and didn't even know it, namely, FASHION.) We were gaga. We unknowingly drug our kids on the the Journey to Atlantis water "slide" at Sea World and it is debatable who clung to whom harder - Mommy or Ivy (it was just awful...had I known...but they actually ended up loving it...it is really only me with the lasting trauma), we ate authentic Indian food from two generations of Indian cooks after graciously being invited (all 13 of us) to a friend's ultra-modern, ultra-cool home overlooking Pacific Beach (such lovely hosts....you know if you are immediately comfortable in a home straight out of Architectural Digest it is the sign of gifted hosts). We ate, drank, slept like queens and kings - one night I slept 10 hours (freakin' TEN hours - not sure I have ever really slept ten hours) and didn't think about yoga once. It was a true vacation.

And best of all, I left overwhelmed with gratitude for my siblings and their families. At the end of the day - family is it. It just is. Realism.