I'm quietly positioned, flat on my back just like the article tells me to.  This exercise is to "quiet my mind".  Okay, I'm flattening out . . . just a sec', there is a Lego dude poking me in my left butt.
(-Mommy, what are you doing?  -I'm breathing, Soren.  Leave Mommy alone.  -Oh, can I watch you?  -No.  -I'll just watch you quietly.  -Whatever.)
Toss it away.  Reflatten.  I'm flattening.  My belly's just a scooch slidey, though, so I gotta squeeze my ribs together.  Sort of makes it so I can't breath, but the article says flatten.  Should I be wearing a couple of sports bras?
(-Mommy, for how long are you gonna breathe for?  -A long time, I hope.  -Oh. long pause  Are you still breathing?)
Okay, now it says "begin with a deep belly breath."  Now, as a lady, I gotta say this feels a little awkward since it's hard to do a belly breath without the junk in my trunk oodling out a bit.  Not to mention, my ribs are squeezy.  This all feels a bit counter productive, and painful.
(-Mommy, please can you wipe me?  -Be right there, Annike.)
Get this, now I'm supposed to say some thing positive in the form of a word or phrase.  But I can't think of anything to say except "Hi, how ya doin'?"  Which sets me to laughing.  My ribs become unclenched, my boobs start shaking and I go fetal because it still burns across my c-section scar when any sort of effort is applied to my abs.
(-Mama?!  Mama?!   -She's in here, Petra!  -What are you doing, Mama?  -She's breathing, you can watch quietly.  long pause  -Excuse me, I tooted.  -You're excused, Annike.  giggles ensue)
Next, I'm supposed to exhale out all this negative stuff.  Instead I accidentally belch because I just finished giggling, swallowing big heaps of air in the process.
(-Nah-nah?  Nah-nah-nah?  Ma-ma? then spitting and pulling of my hair)
Okay, so here's my thing, wouldn't a splash of wine be a bit simpler?
 
 
 
2 comments:
Deep cleansing Mommy breath... Deep cleansing Mommy breath...
Amen.
I try to hit the gym during my lunch hour for some "calm" time. Unfortunately, it just puts me behind at work, leaving me in a panic that not everything is going to get done before I have to leave. Then I feel rushed to pick up the kids and by the time I get home I'm completely frazzled.
Wine...wine works much better.
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