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Hi.

When I became a mom, I searched for a blog that resonated with every part of me: the nerdy kid, the ansty teenage feminist, the wayward 20-something, the ambitious career woman, the writer, the traveler, the wife, and yes, the mother. I couldn’t find that blog, so I wrote it. Welcome.

Nobody cares about your yoga headstand

Nobody cares about your yoga headstand

I’ve been doing yoga since I was twelve, when my mom started taking me along with her. This was before fancy yoga studios and expensive yoga pants. The class was held in a local kindergarten classroom in the evenings, and while some of the women (and it was all women) wore sweatpants, others just wore their mom jeans.

In the ensuing decades, I’ve learned that yoga teachers vary widely and it’s best to take what you like and leave the rest. So today when a new teacher announced that we should set an intention before class, I inwardly rolled my eyes. 

Then when she suggested that intention should be to “Refrain from judgement of self or others for the next 60 minutes”, I thought “Oh sweet young thing, I have been doing yoga longer than you’ve been alive. I already know how to let go of my judgments. Let’s just get to it, shall we?.”

What follows is a sample of my inner monologue during class:

Omg, her voice is so annoying.

Ugh, why am I so sweaty?

Ugh, why is he so sweaty?

Yeah nice handstand, we see you already.

He should definitely keep his shirt on.

I should definitely keep my shirt on.

Omg her breathing is so annoying.

Seriously, enough with the handstands.

God I stink, did I forget deodorant?

God he stinks, someone should tell him about deodorant.

Omg, her shirt is so annoying.

NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR F*CKING HANDSTANDS!

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And that was just the first fifteen minutes.

It appears I have some work to do.

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