Zoo Yoga
Robin Herrick, Conscious Choice
Whoever invented yoga thousands of years ago surely didn’t mean it to be practiced with blue Play-doh squishing between toes during the sun salute. But with two little girls and a seriously busy schedule, the only time I had to get in a session of yoga was usually in the afternoon in front of the TV with a basic yoga video. I would try to find an activity to entertain my two daughters while I worked the kinks and knots out of my body that inevitably accumulate from playing in pint-sized dollhouses and picking up zillions of tiny mismatched socks.
As the yoga instructor peacefully intoned, “Six slow breaths in through your nose,” my daughters cut in with: “You’re mixing your blue Play-doh with my purple!”
“No I didn’t, I used the red!” And then a chorus of “ Mooom!”
I would sigh, roll off the yoga mat, pause the video and go sort out the girls.
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