Sometimes it feels like getting to yoga is the most challenging aerobic activity of the day. I don’t really know how it happens, but I regularly show up at the studio nearly out of breath from the race to arrive at class on time. It isn’t exactly the most zen-like way to begin my practice and each time it happens I swear to do better next time, but…
The other day I left my house for a Yin class with 3 minutes to spare, according to Waze. Perfect – just enough time to put air in the tires of my neglected wagon. I pulled into Stewart’s to witness a woman pulling the air hose towards her vehicle where she proceeded to fill each of her tires, carefully and slowly. By the second tire, I knew there was little hope for my making it to the studio on time. Despite the odds not being in my favor, I waited, filled my tires and continued on my designated route until I rounded a corner and landed right in the middle of some weirdly early rush hour traffic. It just wasn’t happening. I called the studio and cancelled my reservation.
I pulled my car over and spent 10 minutes furiously googling alternative studios and other options to achieve zen. No dice. At this point, I was completely amped up and stressed, needing some yoga even more than I had 20 minutes previously. A sudden thought occurred to me – YouTube! There had to be something on YouTube that would help.
I searched “Yin Yoga” and found Kassandra whose 40 minute prop-less class was one of the first returns. From the description, it sounded like precisely what I was looking for and I excitedly rolled out my mat on my living room floor. Despite Jeter compressing a tennis ball noisily between his jaws right near my ear, I managed to ignore most everything beyond the cues given by the instructor and stayed mentally on my mat. The limited number of poses were held for a deliciously long amount of time and my body was fairly cooperative as it melted into the floor. By the time shavasana came around, I was in a much better place than where I had begun my practice.
Since the first Kassandra class on Wednesday, I’ve taken 3 others each varying between 40 and 60 minutes. The yoga style has consistently been Yin, but the focus has ranged from anxiety relief and relaxation to hip opening. Without exception, all have been terrific. YouTube yoga might not offer the same sense of shared breathing and community that comes from being in a studio, but in a pinch, it could be just where you need to be when you can’t to where you want to go.
Diversion can be a really good thing. When floodwaters are heading straight towards a vulnerable location, a well placed levee can help to avert disaster by directing the water to a better protected area. Similarly, when a person finds themself continuing to ponder a situation for which there is no happy ending, a shift in one’s attention to a more positive course of action can be truly beneficial. And, for the record, an emotional flood is no less devastating than an actual tidal wave to a person who has had their heart-broken. Trust me.
Let’s talk, though, about actual physical diverters because sorrows and affairs of the heart are not as easily repaired as those of the household. Currently I have two rooms in my house that have faulty diverters and I’m losing my patience with their lack of willingness to self-correct. First, my kitchen sink faucet. When middle son and I selected the industrial style faucet a couple of years ago, I was a little hesitant. It was an Italian brand and, while it looked great, I would have preferred a brand that came with a solid reputation because it was kind of pricey. Nonetheless, we bought it.
We probably got about two years of satisfaction from this Giagni Fresco product before the buttons on the faucet head stopped functioning, leaving the nozzle permanently in “spray” mode. For a while I could pull the necessary button out with tweezers to get the water to come out in a stream rather than a spray, but those days are over. Looking on the Lowe’s site at the reviews for this faucet tells me I’m not alone. It’s time to reach out to the manufacturer and get some parts to correct this flaw.
I’ve probably mentioned in the past that I love my bathtub. It’s a jetted Jacuzzi and from September through spring, I’d say I take a bubbly bath at least twice a week. Maybe my joy in bath time created an issue between my plumbing parts and I, perhaps, shouldn’t have neglected to sing the praises of my rainhead shower, because it no longer is working as it should. When I pull the lever from the faucet to divert the water to the showerhead it no longer is operating at 100%, which means my rain is more of a sprinkle. Not great. I attempted a fix myself, after first asking middle son to investigate the issue and learning that he doesn’t know what an allen wrench is, but my repair didn’t stick.
So, do any of you have any plumbing tips for a not so handy homeowner? And, do you think redirected attentions are capable of providing an adequate diversion to lingering emotional deluges?
My first pregnancy was pretty dreamy – I conceived the exact month I wanted to, which meant my maternity leave would be perfectly integrated with my academic calendar. The Lilly baby was due April 5th, which would give me about 6 weeks home, followed by 6 weeks back at work, and then summer off. It all seemed pretty ideal.
Of course, Liam was born 5 1/2 weeks early, arriving at the end of February, rather than early April. Obvious proof, of course, to support the theory that parenting is state of being that can not always be controlled. That perspective, along with the knowledge that once your child almost dies, subsequent things that occur to them make one both less concerned, and more inclined to worry, are how I’ve rationalized a lot of things in the last 22+ years. So far, so far mostly good.
So good! Pizza Suprema.
When it came time to celebrate my oldest’s most recent birthday, we headed to NYC, a full six weeks after his actual birthday, but the day before his original due date. He was interested in seeing a performance at the Metropolitan Opera House and it was challenging to synchronize our calendars and that of the Met to get to the opera that he wanted to see. We were able to find a mutually good date on Thursday and grabbed Amtrak to the city, leaving ourselves barely enough time to eat a couple of slices, get checked in to our hotel and catch the subway to Lincoln Center.
We were cozy in our upgraded seats (When we picked up our tickets at Will Call the man helping us said he had “something better for us.” Turns out that was 11th row center in the orchestra. Bonus!) when the chandeliers lifted to the ceiling and the lights went down. The music was fantastic and the conductor led the orchestra with as much well placed energy as I’ve ever seen. Take this all with a grain of salt – I know nothing about music or conducting.
Don Giovanni is a wonderful opera and the costumes, sets and singing created an experience which was satisfying. I mean, come on, the cad gets his comeuppance! Everyone loves when that happens. While the demise of Don Giovanni was dramatic and well depicted with fire, there were also some more lighthearted scenes with clever dialogue and wit. Admittedly, I dozed a bit here and there, but I don’t believe I missed much. I had feasted on the production and felt sated. It was way better than a C-section.
Filed under aging, beauty, birthdays, Boys, concerts, Events, moms, Music, NYC, pizza, road trips, Spring, theater
Time is such a funny thing. I don’t know about you, but my own sense of time has changed so many times as I’ve grown older. I remember, as a kid, thinking that seasons were seemingly endless, especially summer. Summer was so long that I would have sworn the flowering bush in our front yard bloomed two distinct times. Some months, too, seemed crazy long, particularly March. It obviously isn’t the only 31 day month, but it is one that has always had a tendency to drag. Until recent years that is.
This year, I saw March coming and I was equal parts excited and already exhausted. There were four concerts, a weekend getaway with a special friend, overnights with the girls, two public performances (a friend’s turn taking on the Vagina Monologues and my own storytelling event), some medical appointments, and a half marathon. Plus that full-time job and tending all the males in my life…it was pretty insane, honestly.
Steamed clams in a most delicious butter broth.
Scallops with spinach, roasted red peppers, sun dried tomatoes and cream from Nonna Marie’s in Halfmoon – sooo good!
I closed out the month with a reasonably mellow weekend with only two commitments – Friday night dinner out with friends and a Sunday late afternoon long run with the Luna B*tches, two related items if you consider the enormous serving of pasta that I’m still working my way through days later. I’m feeling almost caught up in terms of rest and household tasks and just about ready for April and the adventures already on the calendar for this month. No fooling.
Getting ready for Helderberg to Hudson!
Filed under aging, Albany, Boys, concerts, Dinner, Exercise, friends, Observations, running, Spring, sunday
I’m really concerned about today’s young people* and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about what a shitty world in which the next generation is growing up. Does saying that make me sound really old? If it does, so be it. Unlike much of today’s youth, I can live with a little criticism and negativity.
It may not be fair to make comparisons to my own young adulthood since my situation was a bit different, but when I consider the responsibilities which were foisted upon me at a young age, I have a hard time accepting how
lame dependent my sons continue to be on their Dad and me. Don’t misunderstand me – I’m appreciative of the fact that we can provide them with financial and other types of support, but their collective inability to navigate through life without relying heavily upon us, strikes me as kind of bizarre. I’m only half kidding when I say that I’ve wondered at times if they would starve if we were gone and they were faced with a manual can opener and a pantry filled with canned goods. I honestly don’t know if they would even know where to begin.
It’s a similar situation when it comes to finding a job, something both of my younger sons have been needing to accomplish (shout out to the fully employed LL!). Apparently, one of my sons had no idea as to how to actually obtain employment. When I asked him how his friends with jobs may have found their way to employment, he said they “knew people.” I suggested he might want to either search online help wanted ads or visit some retail/restaurant spots and ask for applications. Radical, right? How could he not know this?
What prompted me recently to actually utter the phrase that titles this post, relates directly to finding a job. As he was walking out the door to walk to school, my 14 year-old asked me to “get him some babysitting gigs.” Keep in mind, he’s the youngest grandchild on both sides of the family and knows nothing about actually taking care of children. When I asked him about his skills when it comes to diaper changing, he informed me that he’d like to start with older kids, like 3 or 4 year-olds and then work his way down to babies because babies are harder. He may not be experienced, but he isn’t dumb.
Maybe you need a babysitter? Or a son?
*am I alone in this?
Filed under aging, Albany, Boys, DelSo, Education, family, ideas, Local, moms, musings, Observations, relationships, Summer, upstate New York
The years that I was married were busy ones. The boys were young and my husband and I worked opposite hours maximizing coverage of the children, but leaving little time for one another. As the kids grew, we grew apart until I remember a sense of invisibility appearing. I didn’t feel seen. In fact, I felt about as acknowledged as a throw pillow which had been part of a household for so long that its original bright color had faded into something no longer distinctive. It wasn’t good – or good for me.
My first post-marriage relationship, in many ways, kept me in that same shadowy place. Although I felt excited and emotionally engaged, the circumstances weren’t ideal and I felt restrained from being my best live out loud self. As a woman who increasingly wanted more – more fun, more open honesty, more life, I came to realize that the only part of my relationship that was consistently growing was my frustration. It’s taken a surprisingly long time to move from that dark place to a new vantage spot that comes with more sunshine and light. It’s getting better.
Have you heard or used the term 518-Famous? A close friend has been calling me that and it cracks me up. I absolutely love the phrase and I hope that whomever originated it did so with fondness, because that’s how I interpret being tagged as such. It isn’t a declaration of one’s value, it’s more a comment on the small, intimate circle that is Albany for a lot of people.
At an event last week there were some really nice women who had either seen the Front Parlor storytelling event, or follow me on Instagram. They approached me knowing my name and it was pretty cool having a conversation immediately because this person you just met is familiar with your stories or perspective. While my circle of friends and acquaintances is pretty large due to many years in the hospitality industry and education, I’d like to believe that any notoriety I may own comes from this blog more than anything else. This is the place where I’m most myself publicly, I think, and where you just may have witnessed my becoming increasingly more visible. Maybe even 518 famous.
Filed under aging, Albany, DelSo, Events, family, friends, Local, love, marriage, musings, Observations, relationships, secrets, upstate New York
Do you think the wealthy live like you? There have been a couple of news items recently that, to me, have very much demonstrated a fundamental difference between those who are financially rich and those who are not. First example? Meghan Markle’s recent baby shower in NYC, an occasion which seemed to truly piss people off due to the extreme cost of the event. To all the people who expressed disgust at the indulgence of a baby shower which cost more than most people make in multiple years of full time work, I ask this – are you sincerely shocked that Meghan Markle had a baby shower hosted at The Mark Hotel’s penthouse aka the most expensive hotel room in the country? What were you expecting? Crepe streamers and ice cream cake at the Elks Club?
While the act of becoming pregnant and birthing a child may be one that is practically universal (sorry, dudes, you do not have the power), how that whole process works on a socio-economic basis is quite varied. If you’re poor, black or uneducated your odds of having a well tended and healthy pregnancy are dramatically lower than what the Duchess of Sussex will experience. Focusing attention on the expense of her shower, which was paid for by her wealthy friends, deflects attention from the real issue – there’s an incredible disparity in health care and opportunities between the wealthy and most of the world’s population. That being said, I don’t begrudge her the joy that comes from bringing a new life into the world and I don’t believe you should either. Save your energy and outrage for the women who don’t get prenatal care or postpartum support.
Now, about this college admissions scandal…how is anyone surprised by this situation? Rich people have been buying access to various institutions forever. If you’re wealthy, you can afford to invest in tutors, test prep, and other unearned opportunities for yourself and your children. No real shock there, right? Of course it isn’t enough that the offspring of the affluent don’t ever have to consider, much less worry about, the expense of the college application process or getting a summer job to pay for books. Nor will the onerous financial burden of student loan debt* be something that will ever be a part of their lives. Yet, apparently, those benefits of being wealthy aren’t quite enough, so a number of celebrities kicked it up a notch by ensuring their children’s admissions to elite schools by making large donations to educational institutions, buying their children better test scores and bribing coaches and athletics officials. Because, you know, all the advantages that come with white privilege aren’t enough when one can seal the deal with a generous check.
Maybe we shouldn’t be so focused on an extravagant celebration of an upcoming birth. Perhaps it’s time instead to direct our attention toward what children are being taught by their parents after they’re born.
*Which, by the way, is currently estimated to be $1.5 TRILLION.