Yoga

I hate yoga, really I do. Maybe that's why I decided that I had to do it. Something about the quiet and peace just isn't right. I have done yoga before, heck I even taught it but the thought of holding some painful pose while taking deep breaths just seems like some cruel torture.

Today I made my first class in a long time. As I walked in the negative self talk, I shall call her Silva, and I met. It went something like this,

Silva:"Hello Amy, how flabby you have let your arms get this last pregnancy."
Me:" Hey, I just had my sixth kid. That wasn't very nice."
Silva:"Speaking of kids, you left them. I bet they are crying. You're a bad mom and they will never forgive you."
Me:"I love those kids."
Silva:"Just go home and eat a bag of chocolate."
Me:"Shut up, Silva."

Stupid Silva! I finally got her quiet when the girl from the child care came and got me. My dear lovebug Bruce hit a kid. (Don't start Silva.) Elora asked when they told me what happen if they said who won. The way she saw it Bruce was winning before they broke them up. She thought he would have taken him in the next round.

I made it through the class and I am glad I did. It might be the only time today or this week as a matter of fact that I can take the time to focus on my breath.