friday morning yoga

  Today when I picked Sweet Boy up from school he seemed a little down.  He wasn't chatty in the car like he usually is, and he wasn't (as) full of hugs and kisses at seeing me.  When I pressed him about what was bothering him his response was something like this:

"Mom, I've been thinking about this and I've decided that I want you to quit your Friday yoga."

Ugg...here we go again.

You see, Little Man and I have a pretty special relationship.  I like to summarize it by saying that we share a soul.  He is just like me in so many ways, and I've always though of us as a bit of a pair. Need a hiking buddy? I know I can count on him.  Want to run a muddy 5k? He'll be right by my side.  Feeling like last minute car camping,  a handstand contest, or an overly ambitious adventure?  He's my partner in crime.   I've loved this closeness.  But lately I'm wondering if it's causing some problems.

You see, he wants me to be around, be available for hugs, kisses, and last minute pb&j's ALL THE TIME.  He struggles with me going to work in the morning.  Often Sunday evenings leave him in tears with the approaching separation.    There have been more early morning tears, and requests to immediately quit my job, than I'm comfortable admitting.

And the truth is he already has it pretty good.  Although I only see him long enough in the morning for a quick kiss goodbye (Dad has been on full morning duties for 4 years), and sick days are always a struggle and a source of guilt, I am there almost every day after school for pick up.  I'm the homework helper, the lunch maker, and the evening snuggler.  Im there to tuck him in and kiss his sweet cheeks every night.  I'm at every gymnastics meet and every doctors visit.  But the kid wants MORE...

A few weeks ago I started taking and early morning yoga class on Fridays.  He misses his morning kisses, but because of this early morning workout I get to watch part of his gymnastics practice and take him home from practice on Fridays.  It means more time together.   But all Little Man sees is that he doesn't get his morning kisses.  I tried explaining this, tried telling him that I work out Friday morning so that I don't have to go to the gym on Friday evening and we get to be together more.  His response was a lot of bumbling about how I workout enough and I should just skip Fridays.

Little does he know that I'm prone to become an angry Rage-Monster if I don't get my workout in.

So there I am, sitting in the car with my favorite 8 year old, trying to explain to him why I will not be giving up my Friday morning yoga.  Why it's a good thing for me, and really a good thing for him too.  I may as well have been explaining the chemical makeup of rocket fuel.  Instead of trying to talk him through it and expect him to understand what is a very grown up concept, I guess I'm just going to continue what I'm doing.  Going to yoga, wiping tears, and reminding him that I love him.

Being a mom is all about balance.  Trying to find the right balance of giving your children too much vs not enough attention.  Trying to find the right balance of 'me' time and 'mom' time.   The balance of not enough vs too much coffee (okay, maybe that one's just me).  It seems the moment that I start to feel that balance in my life, the universe shifts just a little and throws me off.  A constant reminder that the universe has a plan and I'm not actually the one in charge.