Dear Birkram Yoga: Screw. You.
Okay, first of all. I only kinda, somewhat, sorta only mean that a little bit.
Saturday a girlfriend and I had our first session with this 100 degree torture chamber. Did I feel inadequate looking around the room at these ladies 30 years my senior who were able to stand on one foot while fully extending their other foot in front of them with their hands wrapped around their feet? Um. Yes. I absolutely did. But I am new. <~~ note: this is my new mantra.
I was doing okay. Until we got to this crazy crap that was so far out of my bounds I could barely keep my balance, let alone lock my knee?! Yeah! Right! What happened to the yoga I thought we were doing? That calming, relaxing, stretch-your-mind-and-body-find-inner-peace crap I was looking forward to? This was boot camp. In a sauna. And I am not friends with sweat. I don’t want to sound all wussy and whiney here – but my scrawny behind does not sweat like most people – in all honesty. It takes a lot for me to break out into an all out sweat.
So yeah, the poses were difficult, but I was doing my best, and would probably have been okay – until I got to the point where my breathing is labored and I can’t catch my breath – because it’s a million degrees in the room! When she finally stopped with the standing up (I looked more like a flamingo than ever – Poppy would probably have died from laughter watching me attempt some of these poses) nonsense, I was stoked. Pumped. YES!! I get to sit my ass down!
Right. Only not so much. When she first had us laying on our backs I looked up and realized I was right under one of the sprinklers in the ceiling. As this class progressed, by the end of it all I could think was please, please someone pull the fire alarm and set that sprinkler off.
At one point she had us do something that was almost identical to the kind of W-sitting that both the boys do. Holy mother of God! My kids sit like this constantly! No wonder they can’t sit with their legs crossed in front of them! It feels like this!!! A couple times she had us in poses that were just too much for my knees. I can’t put that kind of pressure on them, they’ll shatter.
But whatever. We persevered. We pushed through, drenched in sweat and dying for air. We made it. Then we went straight to McDonalds. Yeah. I earned that double quarter pounder and those delicious golden salty french fries.
Okay, truthfully though, I don’t really hurt that much. My back, knees, and shoulders were sore when I went to bed, and a bit more so when I woke up yesterday. But after a 45 minute spartan wrestling war with a five year old they were the least of my concerns.
Anyway, as soon as I got home I had to jump in the shower and rush to get ready. Because Kaleb got invited to the birthday party for a classmate for the very first time. It just so happens the little girl who was having the party is one Kaleb has been talking about endlessly since the beginning of the school year, and he could not have been more excited. She also just so happened to have been on the receiving end of one of Kaleb’s meltdowns a few months back, so I couldn’t have been more anxious.
As it turns out, I had absolutely nothing to worry about. Her parents were wonderful right from the second we arrived. Kaleb was welcomed – literally with open arms as he and his friend ran straight for each other – and I got to spend the next few hours watching my little Monster genuinely interact and play with another child without incident. Twice he started to become overwhelmed – once we went outside for a minute, and once he came and climbed in my lap for a while to just relax. I really enjoyed getting to know her parents, and was blown away by how warm they were toward Kaleb. I’m so very glad they invited him. He was upset that we had to leave early, but handled it well, and for that I’m super proud.
Then came yesterday. 3:30am I’m being yelled at by a 5 year old. Kick him out of my room – send him back to bed, go back to sleep. Thirty minutes later he’s back. Repeat. Every fifteen to thirty minutes until then I had a wriggling, loud, whiny, half asleep Kaleb in my ear. I finally gave up at 7 and got up with him, completely wiped out. From that moment on it was madness. One meltdown after another – mostly minor – until around 10:30am. He was drawing – and something went wrong. I don’t know what, as he immediately crumpled up the paper and started screaming. As I walked over to see what the problem was, he was furiously scribbling with marker on the carpet.
Of course he is. One thing leads to another. The next thing I know he’s spitting in Mason’s face. Fast forward three minutes and I’m doing everything I can to keep him under control as he goes into a full blown meltdown. As I said before, my yoga pains are no longer relevant. Not compared to his little elbows smashing into my knees, his little fists pounding and little teeth biting. Of course, poor Daddy had the misfortune of being on the phone with me when this all went down, and instead of talking to me got an earful of shrieking Kaleb.
This lasted for more than two hours. Every time I thought he was winding down he would turn right around and start all over again. He was finally stable enough for me to leave him alone so I could make lunch. Which, of course, nobody ate. Put Mase and Leah down for a nap, and help Kaleb put his room back in order. Well kind of. I spent more time putting clothes back on the little kids than I did actually helping Kaleb. By the time 3pm rolled around, both of the little kids were in nothing but diapers – having stripped down and peed on everything else they had to wear (do the laundry gods hate me or something??). They both slept for about an hour – and woke up in worse moods than they were in before the nap.
Basically the entire rest of the day was a blur of screaming, whining, fighting, crying, throwing, hitting, kicking, and all around chaos. Bedtime came and went, with only a slight hiccup. Mason managed to dismantle one of the headlights on his car (Daddy – I am 100% blaming you for this!), and then shoved a bunch of matchbox cars in the hole where the headlight was. He then proceeded to scream for thirty minutes because the cars got stuck. I got out as many as I could without pulling apart the front end of the car (which I will do today), and he eventually screamed himself to sleep over the last three that I was unable to pull out.
I stood in the middle of the house when all was finally silent – and even the disaster couldn’t take away the joy of beautiful, sweet silence.
Then came today.
Kaleb decided for some reason that he wanted cereal this morning (at the crack of dawn since I found him in our bed once again). Then he decided right after I poured the milk that he didn’t want cereal at all – he was going to eat breakfast at school. I wasn’t in the mood to argue, and figured I’d just eat it when he got on the bus. Only I completely forgot about it.
We now have three dead fish. Thanks to Mason and the uneaten bowl of cereal.
The stool I had safely tucked away had been pulled back out by Kaleb this weekend – and left where Mason’s mischievous little fingers could get it. I went to the bathroom, and when I came back out the sight that met my eyes was yet another fishy horror.
Evidently the Mini Monster decided the fishies were hungry. Standing on the stool in front of the fish tank, he’d pulled off the lid and dropped the entire bowl of cereal (including the bowl) into the tank. I walked in to see him standing in front of the tank clapping his hands and screaming “fishies!”
Act 1 was followed up by a thirty minute scream fest over his bagel. Every time he would rub his finger in his cream cheese and the bagel would show through he would completely freak out until I spread the cream cheese back over the empty spot. Then he went and fed the bagel to the dog.
Oh this day is not starting as well as I had hoped!
Now I’ve got to go scrub down his room since he has therapy today and it’s a disaster yet again. Followed by another meeting at the school. Wish me luck – it looks like I’m going to need it!