Am I sore!

I got this notice in the mail the other day that I had 10 yoga sessions in my package due to expire by April 22. I bought the package of 20 thinking I would use them all for prenatal yoga and that, if I didn't, yoga packages don't expire... Now I remember what ASSume-ing does. So, in order to get my money's worth, I made a plan to get my classes in, somehow, between O's feedings and when John is home. Yesterday, I went to Mysore Ashtanga Yoga. The website description says its for ALL levels and that it is "where each student can work at their own appropriate pace because the teacher instructs each student individually." "No prior Ashtanga experience is necessary." All of which sounded good to me, because I wanted to ease into yoga as I am still pretty weak. I get to the class and everyone sets up their mats and starts practicing yoga right away...before the teacher arrives. I think, well, I will get started and I sit in lotus pose and start my warming up breathing. Then, the teacher arrives and immediately notices I am new. "Are you sure you are in the right class?" I reply "from the description on the website, I think so..." Then she give me a list of sun salutation poses to do. Now the pressure is on because I can remember jack these days. So, I fiddle my way through it. (note, I am not new to yoga, but, apparently, I need to be instructed, not left to my own devices). The instructor, who has other students to give individual attention to, seems to be focusing on me. No pressure... Anyway, I am clearly not doing this right and I have done sun salutations plenty of times before. Anyway, now I notice I am the newbie in a room full of pretzels. "ALL levels" my patutie. Clearly, in yoga, "ALL" means, "ADVANCED". Now, I am miserable. Not only do I feel like I don't belong, but now the instructor is pulling my shoulders and hips in directions they can't go, assuming I am one of the pretzels in the class. Needless to say, I left the yoga class feeling like I was in a medieval torture chamber and today I am sore. Now I now why the class was called Mysore. It's literally AM-I-SORE! Of course, I will probably go back. Now I am intrigued and this is my new challenge.

AM-I-GLAD I have a girl. I heard about that need to be clever about changing boys' diapers because you can get sprayed. With my nephew, I always managed to luck into not getting sprayed when I changed his diaper, but I heard my sister was not so lucky (she had better odds). Well, yesterday, when O peed in between diapers, I thought, I am so glad I have a girl. It just goes onto the dirty diaper, instead of on me...

Today is Easter Sunday. Happy Easter! O's first! I could not wait to put her in one of the adorable floral baby dresses! Isn't this what baby girls are for?! But, alas, it is not sun dress weather. So, I compromised and put the dress over her "Easter" jump suit that grandma got for her. She still looks adorable!

Also, being the good Catholic, I took myself to Church. We all know that Easter is one of the two days where all "good Catholics" go to mass. Boy, was it packed! I even went to the downstairs "family" mass just to get a seat. That was a huge mistake! I am going to be a bad Catholic when I say, I had to move around during the mass because everyone I sat next to was coughing or sneezing into their hands. I kept thinking, I cannot be next to this person during offering peace. I can't bring home any germs to O! I am not ready to have a sick baby (knock on wood.) But, literally, I moved like four times and everyone I stood next to coughed or sneezed or wiped their nose (family mass remember) into their hands. This was misery, for a paranoid mom of a newborn! I am going to have to work to bring back the arm length gloves into style so I can make it through mass! Well, anyway. Now I am showered and awaiting Easter dinner with the family. I can't wait to show off my little meringue.

Those 20 pounds I was so excited to have shed, are apparently not enough to let me fit back into any of my non-maternity pants. So those who were ruminating about my immediate weight loss can rejoice that it doesn't make me a slim person. The pooch does not go into regular pants yet. Mommy cannot look as sharp as her daughter...