I told you so!

A little over a year ago, I posted this photo of Zora eating her lunch (see original post):

 

And then  I took this one a few days ago. Notice any resemblance?

Our Camellia

After 5 straight weeks of filling our yard waste bin with the branches and leaves from our camellia bush, today was finally the last load. This story is probably told better though, in pictures...

Zora hugging her beloved "climbing tree" early this fall.

The camellia is the big shrub in the background.

Zora climbing her tree.

Her favorite spot to sit.

And then it snowed, and sleeted and camellia snapped in two :-(

Alex got to work immediately cutting
branches off the downed portion.

Shrub carnage.

Split in two.

Doesn't look too good.

A little lopsided.

Alex with a chainsaw!

Bernadette and Marcel helping out too!

The downed portion was left behind to see if it
would grow. It is now a favorite little fort.

And this branch is a train. Or a bus. Depends on the day.

We'll see how she does through the spring and summer
before making any final decisions.

A Shift

A little over a month ago, Zora and I went in for our yearly physicals. I wasn't too surprised when I stepped on the scale to find that I had gained almost 10 pounds over the past year (we don't have a scale at home, so I never weigh myself). Zora is still nursing, but far less frequently, and I probably haven't adjusted my diet to match. What really hit me though, was when my ND asked me what kind of exercise I was getting. "Um, none really". This was the first time I have ever had that answer, and it felt kind of like a kick in the stomach to me.

I've always been pretty active, and when I started my Ashtanga practice (it will be 8 years this March!), it was the first yoga practice I had that was so physically rigorous. It felt like I was exercising as well as doing yoga. I should probably stop here, since I know a lot of people do consider yoga to be exercise, and it certainly can be. I am not intending to discount or belittle that in any way. It's just to me, the reason I did yoga was not for exercise. Sometimes it was for physical reasons--it did make my body feel better. Mostly though, it was a way for me to calm my mind, my spirit, and be present in both. Exercise was always a separate endeavor for me. When my Ashtanga practice started to be 2 hours, 5-6 days a week though, it seemed like a bonus to be able to count that time as exercising as well. And I think somewhere along the way, I became attached to that. Attached to my yoga practice exercising my body.

I've chronicled here, on this blog, the journey I've had with my Ashtanga practice. My practice has gone up and down. I stopped for awhile, and started up again, only to stop again. I've felt all kinds of frustration over not being able to do certain postures, and having such severe wrist pain that I could no longer do vinyasas. I tried making my practice public a little, to keep myself accountable. I tried practicing in "secret", without Alex even knowing (only Zora knew, since she was there). I think all of these things were symptoms and consequences though, of my attachment to my yoga-exercise. I wanted that rigorous practice back. That was what I was working toward. To do any less than that, I would not be getting the exercise I needed. But I wasn't even close to achieving this goal, which just led to more frustration.

So I completely stopped again. And it sucked. Then, somewhere along this path of no-yoga-at-all, there was a shift. Something clicked and I realized that, even if I was exercising my body during my yoga practice, that was not what I wanted my practice to be about, and I needed to let go of that attachment. I decided to start off again, with sun salutations as a goal, and that's it. So far, every time I've practiced, I've gone beyond the Surya Namaskaras, which is fine, but I'm intentionally not trying to build up to something. I need some time to get to know my practice again, for what it is--yoga.

For now it's taking place in the middle of our living room (not in the yoga room), because that's a place where I know I can exist peacefully for 20 minutes. Sometimes Alex is there to interact with Zora,  and tend to her if needed. Sometimes I am alone with Zora and my practice is interrupted briefly a couple of times. For the most part though, Zora seems cool with me yoga-ing in the living room.

I'm using these 20-30 minutes a day as a way to reacquaint myself with a practice that I don't want to lose completely. Even in the middle of my living room, with the noise and activity going on around me, I'm able to find little moments of calm and clarity. And really, that's all I ever would get even when I was practicing in a room full of Ashtangis surrounded by all kinds of wonderful yoga energy, or alone in our yoga room at home, before Zora was born, with nothing to think about but my practice. Little moments.

And exercise will be separate. I'm finding ways to exercise that will fit in with all the craziness and business of my life. I just started hooping. We'll see if it sticks. I hope next year when I go in for my annual exam, I will be able to say "yes, I am exercising regularly, and I have my yoga practice". And the scale can shove it, since I really don't care what it says!

The Red House

There are so many reasons I find Zora to be an amazing little girl. She is smart as a whip--she not only can count to ten in two languages, but she has been known to count as high as twelve-teen in English. She's ridiculously hilarious--she can drop Seinfeld quotes like... well, Seinfeld--and she hasn't even seen one episode (this may have something to do with the exorbitant amount of Seinfeld quotes and references she hears from us). She is freakishly strong! I once saw her lift a hundred pounds right over her head (well, not really, that's just an example of a Seinfeld reference we often use when someone is strong--Zora is strong though).

What we discovered most recently though, is that Zora has psychic abilities. We recently started searching for a house. To buy. I know, sounds a little too grown up for us, but it's the truth. The first day we saw five houses, and Zora was amazingly patient throughout 4.5 of them (luckily we weren't interested at all in the last house, so we were fine bailing quickly). That evening we were talking about what she was looking for in a house (Zora's criteria are: a door, a chimney and some rooms), and I asked her which was her favorite. She replied "The Red House!" We hadn't looked at a red house that day.

Cue creepy/mysterious music...

The next day we did look at a red house, and we loved it! It was cute and had an awesome floor-plan, but Alex ended up not liking the smallness of the yard (there wasn't much of one) and the proximity to the surrounding neighbors. This story repeated itself, where we would find a house we both loved, then Alex would have second thoughts. Apparently this is common with folks searching for houses, but I don't process things in this way, so it was frustrating for me. Luckily though, things worked out for the best. Twenty or thirty houses later (I lost count) we found a house that will be really great for our family! We both love it (more than any of the other houses we loved), and... it's RED! Therefore, Zora has psychic capabilities. The End.

We should get the keys before the end of April!

Night Night Bubba (Part 2)

Ok, I know that in Part 1 I said that Part 2 would be a post about "all the long stretches of sleep we're getting", and there is some of that going on, but it turns out that Zora is now a better sleeper than me. Luckily, I do have some experience (from my pre-mama days) in getting myself to sleep better, so I do have some tricks up my sleeves.  Now that I don't have to spend all my time obsessing about how to get my toddler to sleep, I can focus on things that will get mama to sleep better: chamomile tea, stretching in the evening (to avoid the Jimmy Legs), minimizing screen time before bed, and going to bed early!

The night-weaning seemed to help for most of the night, but that 4am-6am period was still kind of brutal for me. The bananas worked for a few weeks, but after a while it was clear that it was less about hunger and more about still needing that connection. She started refusing the bananas and just asking to nurse. I decided that after 6am I would nurse her, but I'm sure to Zora it seemed totally arbitrary--"bubba's resting", then "ok, now you can nurse". I knew we needed something else to help her to figure out when it was time to sleep and when it was time to nurse. I needed something as well, since I found the nursing time slowly creeping earlier and earlier--"Oh, it's 5:45, that's almost 6, let's just nurse..."

Well, thanks to my friend Kristin (awesome and creative mama of 3 adorable little girls, over at Intrepid Murmurings), I discovered the Good Nite Lite. If you can get over the fact that they call it a "behavioral modification night light", it's actually really cool. In addition, the fact that it's making that 4am-6am period more bearable for us--it's totally worth the $35!

Here's the way it works for us: The first night, I explained to Zora that the night light has a blue moon and a yellow sun, and that when we see the blue moon, it means it is time to sleep. When we see the yellow sun it means it is time to wake up, and have bubba. I set the timer so that the moon would turn on about 15 minutes before bedtime, and the sun would turn on at 6am.  Zora seemed to understand the concept right away, though it did still take some time for her to accept waiting for that sun to turn on.

After about a week, it's working really well. She actually gets really giddy when the sun turns on and says "Look, the sun! It's time for bubba!" What's nice though, is that if she is still sleeping at 6am, the yellow sun is not bright enough to wake her up, so the sleeping can continue.

As an unexpected bonus, the bedtime aficionado (Alex) tells me that this nightlight is making his job easier as well. As soon as the moon turns on, Zora hops into bed and is quickly asleep.

I'm well aware that physical and emotional complications which disrupt sleep are inevitable in the future, but for now I'm enjoying the restful nights, and trying not to take them for granted.

Slowly climbing back on the wagon

I have fallen off the yoga wagon. My last yoga post was Jan 2. Over a month and a half ago. True, there have been loads of items of note going on in my mama-life lately (no more diapers, night-weaning, banana eating...), but this is not a good sign for a blog called "Z's Yoga Mama". So what's been going on with my yoga practice? Well, let's take a look. Since New Year's Eve, I've been keeping track of my practice. I've created this handy-dandy chart* to better visualize the trends...

*Please note, the vertical axis on this chart is my best attempt to quantify my yoga practice. I'm aware that this chart is not really mathematically or quantitatively meaningful. 

Hmm... what are all those gaps about? Let me try to make it a little more clear...

To be totally clear, those sick arrows that keep getting bigger include the sickness level of the entire house (not just me). These arrows included fun events such as "Papa's Never-Ending Sore Throat", "Pinkeye Family Tour, 2011" (we were all cured quickly by breastmilk drops in the eyes, but it was still not fun), and "Mama's Dry Nighttime Cough That Woke the World". There were moments when I was actually feeling quite healthy, but would be completely sleep-deprived because Zora was not sleeping well at all, or way too busy keeping the household running because Alex was napping 20 hours a day. And then there's the motivation factor. With all of this going on, and with my yoga practice slowly spiraling down the toilet, it was so very difficult to even drag my tired, aching body onto my yoga mat.

But I really am trying to climb back on the wagon, and get my practice up and running again. Last week I hit another glitch when I started a mastitis episode (probably night-weaning related), but that quickly resolved with some rest and a homeopathic remedy.

This coming weekend, Alex and I will be alternating attendance to a yoga workshop with Richard Freeman (hosted by Troy Lucero), and I'm hoping this will be a spark to light the fire in my practice again.

Mushroom Mania

Anyone who knows me well, knows that I'm a complete mushroom slut. I love any and all* mushrooms--the chewy texture, the earthy flavor, the colors, the shapes--all of it! This is another perk of living in the Pacific Northwest (aside from the amazingly green nature we have all around us, the breathtaking mountain and water views and the beautiful, sunny summers... er... well, excluding last summer)--the locally foraged mushrooms! For much of the year, our farmer's market sells a variety of locally foraged mushrooms, and we've tried every single one. I hope to one day take a class and learn how to identify wild mushrooms (hello awesome homeschooling activity for Zora and me!), but for now I'm relying on the professionals. Even though there is no comparing foraged mushrooms to grocery store mushrooms, I will still eat the grocery store ones--and like them!

We now have a new class of mushrooms to add to our list--homegrown mushrooms! A couple weeks ago, we bought an oyster mushroom growing kit at the farmer's market, thinking it would be a fun project for the family. It was--once it got going...

*I actually just ate Lion's Mane Mushrooms a couple of weeks ago, and wasn't too impressed. They were way too wet and had a funny bitter taste. We might have waited too long before we got around to cooking them though, so I will be giving them another try sometime soon and therefore they are not completely off my list.

The Chart: We were to mist the mushrooms three times a day, so I made a big chart with morning, afternoon and evening boxes to X off for each day. This proved to be just as exciting as the mushrooms.

 The Kit: The kit was quite simple to set up. It consisted of a block of wood chips covered in mushroom spores, then wrapped in plastic. All we needed to do was to cut slats in the plastic, stick four chopsticks in the top (this proved to be difficult since I cleared out all our take-out chopsticks a couple months ago, and the only ones we had were kind of nice and we didn't want to use them. Alex eventually stole some from work) to hold up a plastic bag that would act as a "humidity chamber". And then we waited.

Alex explaining the slit-cutting to Zora

Covering the kit with the "humidity chamber"

The Problem: After a week of absolutely nothing, Alex pointed out that, even though the temperature of our house was within the recommended range, our completely un-insulated windows were letting in a draft that was going directly on our mushroom kit.

The Solution: We moved the kit up to the top of the refrigerator, and within one day, there were already adorable little mushroom buds. From there, they took off! There were four openings in the plastic, out of which grew four clusters of mushrooms.  There was definitely a dominant one, and a runt. It was really cool to watch them grow though, and all three of us really got into it!

Day 9: mushroom buds

Day 10, morning...

...and Day 10 evening!

Day 11: Zora's in charge of misting

Day 12: They're growing like crazy!

Day 13: A lesson on gentle touching

Day 13: Close-up

Day 14: Alex decided it was time to harvest

The Harvest: The "runt" cluster consisted mostly of tiny, dried-out mushrooms, and was no longer growing. Alex decided it was time to harvest. All we needed to do was to twist the mushrooms off at the base, and then (hopefully) new ones will grow from the same location.

The first twist

Zora takes a shot at it

Our harvest (well, part of it)!

The Feast: Alex made a delicious stir-fry using the oyster mushrooms and some greens. We gave Zora a little plate of them to enjoy while she was waiting for the rest of lunch to be ready...

Z totally scarfed them, so I'd say it was a success!

We are now working on our next batch of oyster mushrooms. It's another slow start, so perhaps it wasn't because of the draft, after all...
This was an exciting project for the whole family, so I foresee us doing more of this in the future. Next time around we'll try the shiitake mushrooms!

How living with cats prepared me for parenting a human... except for when it didn't

From birth, I have always lived with cats. The most I've ever had was seven (4 adults and 3 kittens), and the fewest was one. I moved out of my mom's house when I was 18, and a few months later adopted Harley. Next came Zecky (in my friend's hamper), and lastly Kaya (left in the night-drop box at the local shelter). Harley was hit by a car when he was just 5 year old :-( , but Zecky and Kaya have stuck with me through two relationships, ten moves (including five cities, three states, two countries, two cross-country trips in moving trucks and three plane trips), one hurricane evacuation and the arrival of one baby. They were there, next to me while I was going through my noisy labor (well, Zecky was sleeping) and they were there when Zora was born (Kaya took off for a day right after the birth, which had me fretting to no end). They are often there when we practice yoga--and Kaya loves to join us for shavasana (we call it chat-vasana--"chat" is "cat" in French). I love cats, but I L.O.V.E. my two kitties. While I was pregnant, they would curl up next to my tummy and purr, which would inevitably make the baby start kicking. Zora loved the kitties even before she was born :-)

Chat-vasana

Kaya was thrilled to find out we were having a baby

As usual, Zecky took a nap

Zecky looking for some attention during my labor

Kaya was the stillest thing in the room during my labor

But, like having a kid, life with the kitties has not always been easy. There are a few lessons I learned from my two furry friends that have come in handy once I was a mother to a human child. Well, to a certain extent...

1. Don't get too attached to material things (like your hair!): Children spill things and break things and get poop on things. I was already more than ready for this when Zora arrived. Most of these "ruining shit that I care about" lessons came from Zecky. He has spilled all kinds of food (he once dove into an over-easy egg I was eating, splattering yolk all over me and the couch--this was pre-vegan Nicole), knocked things down, and has tracked mud over every surface of the house. When Zecky was about two years old, he gave me an unsolicited haircut. This is not a joke. I used to have hair down to my waist, and I would braid it at night. Zecky would often try to chew on the hair-tie, so I would hide my braid under my pillow. One night, I guess I forgot to put my braid under the pillow, and I was sleeping more soundly than usual, and Zecky spent the entire night chewing on my hair. I'm still not joking. I awoke to a pile of hair on my pillow, which totally freaked me out. I looked in the mirror, and saw that Zecky had completely chewed through one third of my braid. He cut off about 12 inches of my hair. My hair is as straight as it comes, so there was no hiding this missing chunk. The only solution was to cut the rest of my hair to the same length. I was pissed. I have since forgiven him, but I still wouldn't trust him with a clump of my hair.

2. Don't get too attached to a full night's sleep: One of the apartments Alex and I rented was on a busy street, so the kitties became indoor cats for one year (we did let them out on the balcony, which led to lesson #3). As anyone who has cats knows, once they get a taste of the outdoors, they can't really go back. Zecky and Kaya both went completely stir crazy in this apartment. Most of this was at night. They would tear around the apartment, crying, all night long. We tried closing them out of our room, but they would just scratch at the door. We tried putting them in the other bedroom, but then we had the sounds of Zecky trying to beat down the door.  Between the cats and the family of twelve that lived downstairs and blasted the TV at all hours, I didn't get much sleep that year. This still didn't quite prepare me for the sleep-deprivation of parenthood.

3.You must fight for your kitties (even if they may be rabid): As mentioned in #2, Zecky and Kaya were indoor cats for one year--except for going on the balcony. We lived on the second story and we rigged it so they couldn't get down, but they could still go out to get some fresh air, to catch some rays... and to catch bats. Alex woke me up in the wee hours of the morning saying "Zecky caught a bat!" Half asleep, I asked where it was. "Flying around in the apartment". I was up. I should stop here, before I make this story too long. Here's the abbreviated version:
Zecky caught a bat. We called animal control to come save the bat dying on our balcony. Animal control lady came, bat was gone, so she asked for Zecky's rabies records. Zecky's shots were 2 weeks overdue. She took Zecky and said he would be put down. I called the guy in charge, cried and pleaded to get our cat back. He finally agreed to a 6-month home quarantine. We moved to New Orleans 3 months into this quarantine.
Ok, that was still kind of long. The cutest part was when Alex was plotting to break into the animal shelter and rescue Zecky. I think he would have done it.
 
4. Kitchen cupboards must be baby-proofed: Zecky can open anything. The doorknobs where we lived in France were latch style, so Zecky learned to jump up and hang from them to open doors. Watching this act would simultaneously dazzle Alex's great-aunt, and annoy his grandmother. When we moved back to the US, he would continue to try to open all doorknobs, even the round ones. Sometimes he would succeed. The kitties didn't have a kitty door in New Orleans, so when Zecky wanted in, he would just hang from the front doorknob until one of us would notice the knob jiggling (the first few times it was kind of scary...), and would let him in. His mad opening skills do not end there though. He also opens kitchen cabinets, and not just the ones at floor level. We actually needed more baby-proofing in the kitchen for our cat than for our human baby.

5. You might get some poop on you: This was a lesson from the dearly departed Harley. Harley was a fighter. One morning, I heard the telltale sounds of a cat fight--hissing, growling that grew louder and louder until it became howling. I ran out the door, just as the other cat was running off (Harley usually dominated!). I picked up Harley to make sure he was ok, and my heart skipped a beat. His tummy was completely covered in a warm, wet substance. I was sure it was blood, or worse, some part of his insides hanging out. I looked at my hand, expecting to see red, but instead saw brown. Yes, his entire tummy was covered in shit. I did a complete 180 degree turn in a microsecond. I went from loving, concerned mother to horrified and disgusted--I dropped Harley, and ran inside, closing the door behind me. I'll never know whose shit it was, but I suspect it belonged to the other cat. As I said, Harley dominated, and I think he literally scared the shit out of the other cat. As if this wasn't bad enough, Harley was back at the door, within 30 minutes, completely poo-free. He didn't get any kisses on his face for a long time...

6. Baby naps are done best together: This last lesson came Kaya. I adopted her when she was just a few weeks old, and I could feel that she still needed lots of physical contact. For the first several weeks, she would nap on my lap, or in the pocket of my hooded sweatshirt (my first experience with "babywearing"). She was able to settle down and sleep peacefully for longer periods. If I set her down to nap, she would just cry. Hmmm... sounds very familiar.

In all seriousness, I know that having a baby is not really like having a cat, but I do love my two kitties to pieces, and I feel so lucky that Zora is growing up with such an awesome pair of feline companions!

Kaya with napping newborn Zora

3-month-old Zora, with napping Zecky

Bus Body

Alex and I doing closing sequence at Kiran's in N.O.

When I lived in New Orleans, my body was the bendiest that it's ever been. Alex and I would leave home on our bikes at around 5:30am to get to the shala around 6 (this bike ride is another tale entirely--chased by feral dogs, scolded by police to steer clear of the 'hood, daily shout-outs and serenades by the residents...). This, in combination with the warm, humid climate, made me feel like rubber-woman during my practice. A nice feeling for someone who is not naturally flexible. I actually became hooked on this routine, and found it very difficult to practice without a bike ride first.

At some point during the fall after we started practicing Ashtanga (when it was still quite warm in New Orleans), Alex hurt his wrist and was unable to bike for a few weeks. What does biking have to do with a sore wrist? Well, biking amongst the potholes and general bumpiness of the streets in New Orleans is similar to being inside one of those paint shaking machines--I would imagine. You have to hold on for your dear life, and hope your bike has really good shocks! We lived too far away to walk, so we took the bus. The buses, like everything else in New Orleans, were air conditioned to the point of insanity (think Dr. Evil and Mr. Bigglesworth floating in outer space). Though I would wear layers on the bus, the air conditioning managed to permeate through my entire body--to the core. "Bus body" was a term coined by Kiran one morning when she was squishing me in paschimottanasana. As I've mentioned before, Kiran was amazingly tuned into energy and what was going on in our bodies (she even once noticed a change in my smell when I changed my diet). As soon as she started squishing me, she knew something was up. I told her we had taken the frigid bus to the shala, and my muscles were rock hard (as in stiff, not buff). This condition was henceforth known as "bus body". It was most noticeable early in the series, and would work itself out by the end of my practice--until I hopped on the bus again.

The reason I bring this up now, is that I'm currently in a perpetual state of "bus body". I no longer bike for 30 minutes before I practice, and I now live in a city that is cold more often than not. Because of this, every time I practice it starts off the same. First surya namaskara A: Inhale, arms up. Exhale, palms to the floor--but my palms don't come anywhere close to the floor! In some yoga traditions you would grab as far down on your legs as you can reach, but energetic connections are very important in Ashtanga, so we put our palms to the floor and bend our knees as deeply as needed. My knees are often bent in these forward bends through all of surya namaskara A and some of the surya namaskara B's. I had a nice break from "bus body" while on Maui, though my flexibility was nowhere near what it was in New Orleans. As much as I miss feeling like rubber-woman, I am thankful that my practice has been released from the shackles of a "pre-practice routine". I like being able to wake up, step on my mat, and begin the opening prayer. Well, it's not quite that simple. As the mother to a 2-year-old, I do have a few things to get in order before I can practice--none of which are "warm-ups", though. The surya namaskaras is my warm-up, as I think is intended.

Hello Z, goodbye yoga!

Welcome Zora!

Here's one more background post, before I return to the present. I know, it's kind of like a bad movie that keeps jumping around in time. Sorry about that!

On Sunday, November 16, 2008, Zora Rose Hoover Barchechat joined Alex and me in a tub in our living room, and decided to stay. Aside from all the hard work that had been put into getting her here, she was quite cute and cuddly too. We were thrilled. It's not recommended to start Ashtanga again for 3 months after giving birth. This was fine with me, since for the first several weeks after Zora was born, I didn't even think about yoga. When she was about 6 weeks old (before the 3 months!), I did try to practice once, but it definitely didn't feel right for my body, so I stopped.

I did try to start again at around 5 months, but there always seemed to be something standing in my way. For one, I was often completely sleep-deprived. Zora would wake to nurse every 30-60 minutes, and though she was in our bed, so I didn't have to get up, I would still be woken up. Zora was also not too crazy about being set down, so one of us was pretty much always wearing her (usually me)--not conductive to a yoga practice. So I waited some more.

Over Zora's first two years, I started my practice several times--and each time it fizzled out. It was so difficult to practice at home, since Zora would always want to play with me. If we closed the door to the yoga room (yes, we have an entire room devoted to yoga--an advantage to being minimalists), she would pound on the door, wanting in. For a few weeks, when she was around 18 months old, I practiced with her around and she would want to nurse about every 3 minutes--again, not conductive to a yoga practice--especially a vinyasa style yoga.

I have many, many flaws, but one positive trait I have is patience Each time my practice would fizzle out, I decided it was not the right time for me, and I waited.

I knew that practicing outside of the home would be a possibility, but I had not practiced in a yoga shala since Katrina (click for that story), and I didn't think I'd be comfortable practicing with a group of people. Enter BP. No, not the oil spill, but a very good friend of mine who has an adorable baby boy, E, who is 4 months younger than Zora. BP started learning Ashtanga from Alex a few months after E was born. She would periodically come to our house and practice, but once her work schedule and Alex's work schedule no longer synced, she started searching for a studio. There was one not too far from her house (and ours) that offered Ashtanga classes, so BP decided to try it. She invited me to the Sunday led-class, but I was resistant at first since I strongly prefer mysore classes--especially if my practice is feeling "weak". I was also weary of practicing with a new teacher. Finally, I decided to try it out, and felt much less nervous since I would be showing up with BP (I can be painfully shy and socially awkward).

It is now 3.5 months later, and I am still managing to get to the shala twice a week. This is a far cry from the 6-day-a-week practice I had before, but it also beats the no-practice practice I've had over the past two years! The teacher, SP, has a style very reminiscent of Kiran and Nancy. She has been totally supportive of me adding postures back slowly and gently, while also pushing me at times. I started out doing half of the primary series, and fairly quickly added on the rest of the postures, and the longer closing sequence. For the past two months, I've been adding the intermediate postures and I now go as far as parshva dhanurasana. BP and I go together every Sunday to the led class, and I love being able to do that with a friend--very motivating! Next Friday, which is New Year's Eve, there will be a shala breakfast after the mysore class. Alex and Zora will be joining us for the breakfast, as well as BP's family. I love feeling part of a yoga community again!

One more day with Nancy...

My modified Savasana

On Friday we got to go once more to Nancy's. It was Alex's day to be "on deck" with Zora, so I could practice in peace. We knew it wouldn't quite work out like that, since I'm the one with the "bubba" (boobs). We set Zora up between us, and she spent much of the time playing with her toys--which she was really excited to show to Nancy and Casie! My practice went well, and I was able to do the entire primary series. I decided not to push it and not continue onto the intermediate series. Zora also spent some time working on her adjustments, which often included climbing on me. My favorite posture to be adjusted in is baddha konasana, and just as Nancy headed over to adjust me, Zora beat her to it and climbed on my back. Nancy ended up still adjusting me, through Zora, by pushing on Zora's back. It was pretty funny!

As a bonus, Nancy invited us to her house for breakfast after mysore class. It was really interesting talking with her about her own daughter's childhood growing up around Ashtanga yoga. Nancy also introduced us to tahini and apple butter together on a bagel--I highly recommend this combination!

I so wish that Zora could regularly come with us to mysore classes, but it's not likely to work out where we live. I have been inspired, however, to practice more at home, with Zora around. I will still practice outside of the home, so my practice can continue to progress (and I can get back into the intermediate series), but I really see the value for Zora and for me having yoga be something we share. Today I practiced alone (Alex was out doing errands) in our Maui apartment with Zora there.  She stood with me during the prayer, then she went off to play with her blocks and "mans" (her little people). At one point I asked her to come give me an adjustment in a posture. She said "I'm busy playin', mama. One minute!" After a few minutes, she came over and put her hands on me in prasarita padottanasana A. It felt really nice. I only got through the standing postures, but it felt so good to have that connection with Zora. My "home shala" in Seattle will be closed until New Year's Eve, so I will definitely have the opportunity to experiment with more of a home practice when we return from Maui--in two days :-(

Z's First Mysore Class

Zora attended her first mysore class this morning. Just the fact that Zora (25 months tomorrow--or 2 years 1 month for those of you who don't like to count in months) was welcomed with open arms into Nancy's class adds to why I love Nancy Gilgoff so much! That's right, mysore with Nancy means that we're on Maui right now! Alex and I have attended a few of Nancy's workshops in various locations, and have always loved practicing with her. I truly feel blessed to know her and to have had my practice touched by her. It felt really special to practice at her shala.

When we let Nancy know we'd be in Maui, we told her that we both wanted a chance to practice at her shala, so we were planning on taking turns (one staying home with Zora while one went to the shala). Nancy said that her shala had seen many children and that Zora was more than welcome to join us. My home practice has been pretty much non-existent since Zora was born. I typically need to get out of the house if I want to do a full practice, so I didn't have high expectations, though I was willing to try. Alex and I decided that today I'd be "in charge" of Zora, meaning that I would practice, but if it was obviously not working out, I would stop my practice and take her out to play. Next time it will be Alex's turn.

When we arrived at the shala (after a wrong turn, but a very nice man with a wave tattoo on his shoulder set us straight--even though he insisted that he knew of no such yoga studio!), Nancy wasn't there yet, but several of her students were. They were all very friendly with Zora, and we set my mat up in the corner of the room and put out a few toys and books for her. Next Nancy's assistant Casie arrived, and gave us, and especially Zora, a very warm welcome. Then Nancy arrived, and it was really wonderful to see her again, and to get to introduce her an Zora to each other.

Zora "adjusting" me in baddha konasana at home

Zora and I played outside while the class did some meditation and then the opening prayer (which Zora totally recognized and wanted to go in and join them!). When they were all done, Nancy invited us back in, and I began my practice. For the first few minutes, Zora just sat and stared--dumbfounded! If you have never been in a mysore class, you should try it sometime. The energy is amazing. Zora has seen Alex practice quite a bit, and me somewhat, but she has never been in a room full of practitioners. The breath alone is a powerful force. Zora was also intrigued by Nancy and Casie who were walking around the room giving people adjustments. While I was in utthita parshvakonasana, Zora put her two hands on my hips and said "I'm holding you, Mama". It was the first adjustment I've received from her, aside from when she climbs on top of me during a posture. She also sat on my lap during navasana, which made the posture pretty much impossible. She told me "I want to sit in your boat", which is funny because navasana is the boat posture.

This was the first time I met Casie, and I immediately trusted her and felt comfortable with her adjustments. She has different adjustments from Nancy, but the energy is very similar, in that they are both very nurturing. Casie really won me over though, in the way she interacted with Zora. She was so sweet with her, and kept playing with Zora and talking with her (all the while, still going around the room and giving adjustments). I felt nervous a few times that Zora's chatter might be bothering some of the other practitioners, but Casie kept assuring me that it was fine. Zora is typically quite careful when on the back of my mat, and will ask "Are you jumping back, mama?", so she can get out of the way. Today though, Zora started doing her own jump-backs! She started off jumping back and landing on her knees (which seems like it would be painful, but she was fine), then Casie showed her how to land on her feet. It was really sweet!

After class, several of the students remarked how cute Zora was (who wouldn't think that?), and how fun it was having her in class. Nancy also mentioned how important she thinks it is to have kids in class from time to time so that the practitioners don't take themselves too seriously. As a parent, it feels really wonderful to have places where my daughter is welcome. We don't live in a very child-centered or parent-supported culture, so it's easy to feel like an inconvenience to others. I am grateful to have had this experience today.

My plan had been to make it through the sun salutations, and perhaps most of the standing postures, if things were going well with Zora. In the end, I made it all the way to supta kurmasana, before I knew it was time to start the closing (I did the short closing). I really can't believe I made it that far! Now, if I can only figure out how to get Nancy and Casie to our house every morning to adjust me and play with Zora--that would make for a really great home-practice!

Katrina Ate My Yoga Practice

At the time Katrina was nearing New Orleans, Alex was actually at a yoga workshop in Montreal with Darby. UNO had already started classes, so I was still in town. We didn't own a car, but a colleague of Alex's dropped his second car off at our house before he and his wife evacuated. I wasn't planning on evacuating, since I had done it before and found it to be hassle. To make a long story short, I ended up evacuating at the last minute, thanks to Kiran (she called me in the middle of the night insisting that I leave). This was a good plan, since we had about 7 feet of water in our neighborhood. I drove with our two cats, Zecky and Kaya, to my brother's place in Memphis. After several days of telling me that his flight back to New Orleans was delayed, Alex finally agreed that the flight was probably not going to happen, and he flew to Memphis. We call the next month of our life:

We stayed a little over a week at my brother's house, but needed to find somewhere more permanent to stay, since it looked like we wouldn't be able to go back home any time soon. We decided that we'd head up to Montreal and stay in Alex's grandmother's apartment (she was not there at the time) until we figured out what to do. We also needed to return the car to Alex's colleague, who was heading to Ann Arbor, Michigan, so, we drove north. Our next stop was my uncle's house in Illinois. We stayed there for a week, and while we were there, we received an email from the chair of the math department at UC Davis (where we both went to grad school), offering us (pity) positions for the year. We didn't know if our universities in New Orleans would be re-opening any time soon, so we decided to accept the positions. We still needed to return the car though, so we packed up and continued on to Ann Arbor. There we were lucky enough to be lodged by our good friend's mother (also a math nerd)!

Needless to say, all this traveling and stress made it difficult to focus on yoga. We were used to practicing at our shala in New Orleans, and it was hard to motivate ourselves for a home(less) practice. There was an Ashtanga shala in Ann Arbor, and we were very grateful to be able to practice in a group again--if only for a couple days.

From Ann Arbor, we left for California, where we stayed another week or so with my mom and step-dad in Sebastopol, before we could find an apartment in Davis. We were very aware of how fortunate we were--jobs, a home, each other, but it was also a really hard time. On the bright side, it was the easiest moving day we've ever experienced. We walked in the door of our new place with two suitcases and our two cat carriers, set them down and that was that! It had been a little over a month since I left New Orleans.

There was no Ashtanga shala in Davis, so thus began our home practice. We had a small linoleum area where the kitchen table would go (if we had one), and it was there that we would practice. For a good year after Katrina, I was pretty depressed, and this affected my practice greatly. On the other hand, my yoga practice helped with the depression.

After spending a year in Davis, it was time for us to find new jobs, and we did, in Seattle. We packed ourselves and the kitties up once again and made the move up north. There were a couple Ashtanga shalas in Seattle, but with my new job, and the need to commute by bus, I maintained my home practice. It had already been a year, and I had grown accustomed to practicing on my own (Alex often went to a yoga shala). I did try two of the shalas a couple times, but it was overwhelming and distracting with all the other bodies in the room. I also had some negative experiences with teachers, and I didn't feel in a place where I could put trust into someone new. Even though it is more difficult to motivate yourself for a home practice, I really did enjoy the quiet and the stillness.

Up next: The Stick Shows a Plus Sign!

How it all began (yoga-wise)

I started taking yoga classes about 16 years ago, when I was 18 (if you're interested in math, you can do a little to figure out how old I am). I have always had back issues and the classes I took would help with the pain. The style of yoga didn't matter much to me. In fact, I probably wasn't even aware that there were different styles, or traditions. As much as I loved the classes I took, I never really progressed in my practice. I'm not naturally flexible (couldn't even touch my toes!) or strong (aside from my right bicep, from working a year at Baskin-Robbins), and I didn't gain much flexibility or strength from practicing yoga. Enter New Orleans.

My partner, Alex, and I moved to New Orleans in 2003 for Alex's math post-doc at Tulane (yes, he's also a math nerd). I managed to get a lectureship at UNO, and to convince Alex to take a yoga class with me. We took one at the rec. center at Tulane, and it was ok. Sometime in the winter, we went to a math department party, and Alex was talking with a colleague who was practicing Ashtanga Yoga. We weren't familiar with it, and she compared it to Power Yoga, which completely turned me off.  I wasn't interested in an aerobics class trying to pass for a yoga class! Alex was interested though, so he decided to do the introductory class. He went once and enjoyed it, and asked me to join him the next time. His description of the class sounded ok to me, so I agreed. Enter Kiran.

I immediately fell in love with Kiran. Aside from being incredibly knowledgeable about yoga and Ashtanga in particular, she also knew the human body very well and knew when to push and when to back off. Ashtanga teachers tend to be pretty hands-on when it comes to adjustments--physically moving your body, rather than talking to you about where your body should be. Kiran had a really good sense of the energy running through the body as well, and for me, her adjustments were not just moving parts of my body, but moving energy too. I consider myself to be extremely fortunate to have had Kiran as my first Ashtanga teacher. She spoiled me for most other teachers, which made things difficult in the future, but I'm glad to have such standards. I think this has kept my body safe (for the most part) and it has kept my practice from turning into something that I didn't want it to be (competitive, analytical, purely physical, etc.).

So, back to the intro class: Kiran not only introduced us to the physical practice, but also presented the history of Ashtanga, as well as the other limbs (there are 8). The practice was intense, but she started us off gradually and I actually found myself becoming stronger and more limber than I had ever been. We began with the sun salutations (Surya Namaskara A & B), and then each Sunday Kiran would add new postures. Alex and I would also attend the evening mysore class a few times each week. By the end of the first month, we had the standing postures under our belts. At some point we switched to the morning classes (6am!) so that we could practice at the shala 6 days a week.

At this time, there was a little bit of fun competition between Alex and me, though it was never real because he is way stronger and way more flexible than me. My one claim to fame is my long, monkey arms, which allowed me to get into Marichyasana D the first time I tried it. Meanwhile, it took Alex a while for his hands to meet. We progressed through the Primary Series postures over the summer, and began the Intermediate Series in the fall. The furthest I've gone in the Intermediate Series is Supta Urdhva Pada Vajrasana, but Alex does the old Advanced A Series, which is mostly the new Advanced A Series, and some of new B.  So, here we were, happily trucking along with our Ashtanga practice, loving Kiran, the shala, our fellow practitioners and New Orleans. Enter Katrina.

Hurricane Katrina arrived, and threw the first big wrench into my practice--along with mucking up other things for us, the rest of New Orleans and much of the Gulf coast.

Up next: Katrina Ate My Yoga Practice
Also, I promise to get to mommying soon!