Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Baby Yogi

Willow and I go to Baby Yoga every week. 

There are a couple of things that are surprising about this, but there are good explanations.  One, I hate yoga.  It makes me dizzy and nauseous and self-conscious and it just sucks.  But this isn't one of those Mommy and Baby Yoga classes where the mom does the yoga while the baby lies there.  Nope, Willow does the yoga.  Which is awesome.  I'm all about bendy babies.

Two, I hate being sociable with people I don't know.  And I hate paying money to have to do that.  But, let's face it, I've been here in my house for seven months or so now and it's gotten old.  And I've gotten desperate.  To the point where I will pay cash money to make small talk.  It's a sad state of affairs.

And yet, it's the highlight of my week.  I don't so much love hauling ass over to Hoboken by 11am, which may not seem like such a feat to those of you who have to be at work by a certain time, but it's a challenge when you're dealing with a baby on strict feeding and sleeping schedules.  But she loves the journey, especially when we take the light rail and she can sit on my lap and look out the train window (but that takes five times as long so we don't often do it).

And she loves the class.  Loves it.  Other babies don't make it all the way through and start crying or need to go to sleep, but Willow rolls around staring at all the babies, fascinated.  I can't get her to make eye contact with me at all, which is fine.  We have our own little yoga class at home later, with the bonding and the cooing and squealing.  But class time is social time, and I'm thrilled to see it.  Yesterday she and another baby were sitting next to each other, and they held hands.  Dear God, it was the sweetest thing in the world, and I wish I had a picture for you, but of course I don't, because I wasn't going to say "yo, you across the way, could you just take a quick cellphone pic?" because that would be lame and disrupt the ohm. 

She's going to be a sociable little thing.  Must get it from her father, because she certainly doesn't get it from me.

1 comment:

kate said...

That last line sounds like a familiar situation...