Ode to Ivy

My back is spasming. This is the first time it has happened in ages and it wasnt an acute attack, I noticed it spasming after my morning class and as the morning went on it grew worse and worse. I have been icing, doing mini-walks, and taking IBU and some north-of-the-border muscle relaxants that have done nothing but knock me out. Fortunately, I was able to find a sub and canceled my private. I have no idea what the rest of the week will hold, but since it is a busy teaching week I sure hope it is better by tomorrow. The one thing I do know after years of low back issues, if it is bad, it's bad, so I am choosing to lie low and not think about the future.

I had the opportunity to catch up on some yoga readings and in particular I re-read an article about internal busyness. Once again I was reminded of the beauty of the "gap" those periods of stillness where you notice things - where the magic happens. I have been wanting to blog about my time with Ivy last Friday, but spent a good portion of the weekend dodging rain showers and pecking away at yard work, hence the back, I am sure, and cleaning out drawers, again, the back, and while I am confessing, I am sure teaching my many yoga classes with out a lick of exercise last week didn't help much either, but one thing I know about injury: it is my greatest teacher.

The intersting thing about twins is you rarely observe them without the other. I remember when Ivy was maybe 9 months old, I had to take her to the cardiologist and it was the first time in her little bitty life that it was just she and I. I remember how odd it was, and how I vowed then and there to try and do things with them individually. It hasn't happened much, except for the occasional special occasion and sometimes doctor visits. I love those visits! I see them clearly, as individuals. When I was so worried about Ivy's attention span this winter and took her for her well-child check independent of Piper, I saw how wonderfully different she and Piper are. Ivy is her own little individual, independent, curious child who feels life's injustices passionately and doesn't always have the verbal skills to communicate her frustrations. She tries. She says, " I am frustrated" or "I am angry" but Ivy clearly marches to the beat of her own drum. She is Ivy and I accept her and love her exactly as she is, those yellow teeth from one of her many stumbles, her "speeches" you don't always understand. Her dances where she moves that little tooshy. She was so happy to be at the doctor and I can't help but think in part it is because she gets to be the center of attention. After the appointment we got ice-cream and the rest of the evening she was at my side - loving me (she is the least affectionate so it is a rare treat to be loved so freely). Even a trip to the doctor's office can be filled with unexpected gifts.