updating my dear readers


Never fear, it is November and I will blog every day, barring calamity.

Daylight Saving Time

Image by Mike Licht, NotionsCapital.com via Flickr

The BlogHer post is here for those who are interested, but otherwise just a quick update on the weekend.

Whatever has been ailing me appears to finally be giving up. Today was the first day I didn’t feel like falling over literally in about a week. The gash on my foot was remarkably better today as well now that the wound is closed and the swelling diminished. Just in time for the child to start looking pale and complaining on and off about her tummy. Though so far she has not vomited or run a fever, she is pale and not straying far from quiet play in the not quite finished living room.

The kitchen tile is looking stellar.

Edie stopped by for lunch and visited into the early evening.

And now it’s time for bed. Or nearly so.

Fall break is this week. Poppies are everywhere and the living room might actually get painted and if we make it until Wednesday with no snow fall whatsoever, it will be some kind of climate change freaky record for the Edmonton area.

What’s new with you?


Solstice came and went earlier this week and already I notice daylight beginning its steady retreat toward the long winter.

But for the near daily late afternoon or evening rain showers, the weather sings. Temperate, mostly sunny and gloriously Albertan, the gamut of the blues competing for dominance behind clouds that seem smashed flat against an invisible ceiling.

School is out today. Normally I would lament ten weeks with child underfoot, but this year I am looking forward to having Dee about 24/7. Eight – nearly – is a wonderful age. Probably the best era of her childhood so far if I factor out the social intrigues.

She danced at the school assembly after all. Went off without a hitch. The mother of her little friend was prevailed upon to allow the girl to perform with Dee though that was not my doing or intention really when I clued the classroom and music teacher to the issue.

I’d sent quick notes just letting them know why Dee wouldn’t be dancing. No blame or hysteria or pleas to intervene. I really was okay with Dee not dancing and she seemed okay too – mostly because she didn’t know the real reasons behind it.

But the music teacher took it upon herself to call the friend’s mother and pointed out that Dee and her daughter were friends and that should supersede everything else. And the mother agreed.

Which also doesn’t surprise me. She’s a decent and reasonable person. She and I just approach life and motherhood differently.

I went to school and helped Dee into her costume and did up her hair before the assembly. I saw the mother whose non-reaction – no smile or wave – pretty much summed it all up.

Awkward, as Dee would say.

I suppose so. Less and less do I care about other people’s take on me as a person. As my mother constantly pointed out to me while I was growing up,

“What other people think of me is none of my business.”

Dee performed in front of the whole school and didn’t miss a beat. The audience was enthralled.

But they are also quite well-trained. As I have mentioned before, the staff and administration at Dee’s school are stellar. I still don’t understand the hesitation on the part of some  parents I have met here about sending their kids there.

Yes, some of the population is working class and some more are quite needy, but none of that really matters at the elementary level. When kids begin to be more influenced by peers than family in the pre-teens is when environment and peers need to be monitored closely, but even then I would argue that a strong teaching staff and an administrative office who lay down the law in a clear and even-handed way is more important than anything else in selecting a school.

But I digress.

Family picnic was yesterday and Rob cleared a bit of his day to attend.

On Wednesday I taught my second yoga class. Everyone in attendance was nursing injury.  A lesson for me in thinking on my firmly pressed into the mat feet.

Teaching yoga continues to be totally awesome.

I had a scare, however, the other night where my future as a yoga instructor is concerned.

Kat sent me an email asking me to redo a question. I’d completely blown it. Didn’t get a single point. And it was a major question.

When I reread what I’d written, I could see right away what I hadn’t done but I also know why I missed it. It was on actions: simple, complementary and counter. A concept that only really started to be clear after the in-class review for the in class test on the Friday of our last session.

That’s the problem with learning – and teaching for that matter. With things needing to be tested and verified for grading and granting of this or that certificate and degree, the real time needed for each student to digest and integrate information doesn’t neatly fit into arbitrary time frames.

You can parrot back facts and theories without really making sense of them.

I know what a simple, counter and complementary action is. Definitions are easy to remember. But actually coming up with examples by pose? That’s just starting to make sense within the last week and a half.

Teaching that first class was a major eye-opener for me. It’s too bad that YogaWorks doesn’t have a component that requires teaching classes outside of the training. Teaching each other within the workshops was never quite the same thing.

But, I wrote the take home a month ago and then moved on to studying for the in-class test and preparing for my sutra presentation and the teaching of my pose.

I passed the last three, by the way.

Kat told us that most people who fail, failed the take home. And I think I know why now. We had a study session for the in-class, but there was nothing comparable for the take home. The reasoning being, I’m sure, that a take home let’s you use books and notes. What it doesn’t allow for is the give and take of the study session. We weren’t supposed to help each other.

There are valid reasons for not allowing people to read each other’s take homes and offer suggestions and ask questions. My personal opinion though is that they don’t apply to yoga – which is collaborative in the training process to a large extent and fosters the idea that we learn from each other through discussion, practice and collaboration.

Awk, the teacher in me is coming out. I see and I critique.

I haven’t heard back since I sent in my reworked question and rather than continuing to hyper-ventilate, I chose to believe that all is well.

As Rob says, the worst thing that could happen is I have to rewrite the test.

So true.

I managed to write for Care2. My posts are both in the hot topics this morning. I’d be pleased but they were written to incite mindless raging commentary and I am certain my poor karma is wilting as a result.

Nothing more for 50 Something Moms though. The blog is closing. The SVM partnership hit an iceberg and as they are unable to resolve it, they are closing. I am torn as to my feelings, but I think it was time for me to move on from it anyway. So, it’s all good.

Stepping away from the keyboard now. Sunshine beckons.


That 15 minutes of fame laps the stadium of one’s life rather quickly on the odd occasions it shows its face at all.

From thousands to hundreds to just my regulars in a matter of a few days.

Ah, well. As the sutras say, best not attach one’s self.

While I wasn’t gracing WordPress’s Freshly Pressed page, I was catting about my other haunts. The mom’s blog is rocking with new writers and I strive to fit in. School news was all about the sex and orientation.

I am immersed in yoga this weekend. Training.

Yesterday we talked about prenatal students. Enlightening and amusing.

First, I was right about the whole “bodies cannot come back after childbirth”. Like most things in life, people who make claims to something so obviously untrue have agendas ranging from misleading to delusional.

Second, if more mothers honestly spoke about motherhood, fewer women would rush into it.

A little less than half the class have been pregnant and given birth. Most of the students are Edie’s age, mid-ish to late twenties. While the moms shared the kind of things that still don’t come up on even the most tmi parts of the webosphere, all the child-free ladies grimaced and choked back a little bile.

I should not be amused by this because it is not yoga and because I don’t approve of those pregnancy in the trenches stories that some moms gleefully get off on telling, normally around newly PG women, but never PG’s will do in a pinch. The purpose of talking about the experience should be to enlighten not deliberately unnerve.

I always oblige those who query about the realities of pregnancy and birth, but only because I think a woman should go into it armed with factual info – just as preteens should be similarly armed as they bravely – and with foolish haste – step onto the hormone gridiron.

Back on Monday with a follow-up to Jillian Michaels (someone scraped my post and put it on a message board).

Namaste, y’all.