Kind of like that movie, Cocoon

I had the morning to myself on Sunday and rather than spend it watching TV and playing iPod solitaire, I went to a yoga class.

Now, I only had a short window. The girls were at the movies with Diana, the most awesome teacher in the universe. Matt was playing soccer. And the World Cup finals were starting at 11:30. (Aside: I picked Spain to win it all on day 1. Wooo.)

So, the only yoga class happening at 10 a.m. was something called NIA, which was described as a mixture of yoga, martial arts and jazz dance. Hmmm. That should have stopped me right there. But a kick-boxing class kind of uses those elements, too, sometimes, right?

It didn't bother me that I was 20 years younger than everyone. It didn't even bother me that the instructor had dreadlocks and yoga pants with black, flowing gauzy stuff at the bottom. So that when she moved the gauzy things made waves. Well, the pants did bother me somewhat, but not enough to walk out.

The first 25 minutes or so were typical aerobics class stuff. Yoga set to synchronized steps and a lot of it required hip-shaking.

But then. It was time for the "free dance" portion. Yes. Free dance.

Now, I'm not opposed to free dance. Just that morning, Ella and I were free dancing to the Chemical Brothers' "Hey Girl, Hey Boy." We were pretending we were at a rave and we built up to the big beat and everything. It was amazing.

Free dancing in a room full of silver-haired strangers, however, was a different ordeal. Like, all of a sudden these ladies began to fling their arms about and skip around the room. Sometimes they'd stop and pose. One lady stood in place and did, like, a Deadhead type of spin.

Me? I was horrified. I stood in the corner and shifted from side to side, the same thing I did when I went to my first dance. I didn't make eye contact with anyone. I waited and waited for the song to end. It had to end soon right? Right??

It finally did end. And guess what? There was ANOTHER free dance!

I should have walked out. Any sane person would have. But the writer/observer side of me took over and I just couldn't leave. What if something even more ridiculous happens and I miss it? Well, something else did happen. One of the ladies, the sweetest looking one who wore an old-school sweatband, she got on the floor and started writhing around on the floor. Like a snake.

Now, I'm all for people expressing themselves. And I think it's cool that these women have this outlet. But if NIA class taught me anything it's that I'm a person who likes structure. Apparently, I like things done a certain way. I like rules. And at yoga, the rules should not include a Dance Jam.

In which I get a little too into parties

I never knew I would spend a Saturday afternoon baking 50 cupcakes, half of them made from scratch with lemon zest and two varieties of homemade icing: raspberry and lemon. I didn't think I would make 30 sandwiches and cut them into circles and flowers. Or spend days and days in thrift stores accumulating 25 teacups for the kids to take home. But I did.

Yes, folks, I am a mom.





And Matt, as always, is awesome dad.

The lost photos

I can't find my camera and for Marina's birthday party I had to borrow my grandmother's.
I don't think she's ever uploaded a single photo and and hidden inside the memory card were some never-before seen gems like these:

College-bound

Ever since we saw Toy Story 3, where Andy goes off to college, the girls have been asking me lots of questions about college, especially the concept of sleep-away school.

Marina: Did you go to sleep-away college?
Me: No, I went to stay-at-home college, but Daddy went to sleep-away college.
Marina: Um . . . I think I will go to stay-at-home college.
Me: OK.
Marina: What is sleep-away college like?
Me: If you go to sleep-away college you get to go to bed whenever you want. You get to watch TV whenever you want. And if you want to eat candy for dinner, you can.
Ella: I'M GOING TO SLEEP-AWAY COLLEGE.
Marina: And if we go to stay-at-home college can we do that?
Me: No, you will still have to follow the rules.
Marina: OK, I will go to sleep-away college.
Ella: I'M NEVER GOING TO BED!!!

Wiped

So this is how June 2010 has evolved so far:

My friends at work got laid off, others took drastic pay cuts, the girls got stomach bugs and, on top of that, the entire city of San Diego judged me because I wrote this article.

I am drained.

The only thing keeping our house sane is World Cup soccer, which has been totally fun and exciting. Or maybe I'm saying that because Mexico won when no one thought they would, and it came on pretty much the worst day, ever, and instilled a weird sense of hope in me.

Anyway, here is a picture of a good day. And I'm posting it even though people are going to be all upset that we take our kids to Pinkberry. We do, everyone! And then later we bathe them in high fructose corn syrup!

First Hall Movie

While I was on assignment today, I got this little gem sent to my phone.

first hall movie

Here we are again

So, it's June again.

And while the first three days have been non-eventful, save for some super cranky mornings, I know that this particular June will be filled with lots of change.

As many people already know, it's a given that something bad usually happens to me in June, things so terrible I would never write about them on a blog. And because of those dark and scary things, I have an irrational fear of this month even though Matt proposed to me on June 1 in the hopes that he could make it better.

But I know for sure things are happening where I work this month. I don't know how it will play out, but perhaps because I know it's coming in June, I'm not so wrapped up in my hatred of the month.

So today I decided to celebrate the start of summer. I cleaned out our little baby pool, filled it with water and watched the girls splash about while I sat in the warm evening sun.

It's June.