In high school, I used to babysit every Tuesday for my seminary teacher. Their family was awesome. One of the things I loved was that their kids would eat anything. Their dad said that whenever they introduced a new vegetable, he and his wife would make a huge deal about how excited they were to be having it. They would pretend not to give their kids any of it, saying, “you won’t like this… this is just for grown-ups.” Of course their kids begged for some, and when they got to try it, they had to master the art of faking it. “MMMM!!!”
This is how I approach yoga with my kids. I play coy, “you don’t want to do yoga with me? OK, no biggie.” I know they will move away from anything I pressure them to do too strongly. It’s a fine line, balancing how much motivation to give them, and when to leave it alone. Drew has grown increasingly interested in yoga lately. Her daycare has been doing a program called “ZENergy” and she loves it. It’s somehow a mixture of yoga poses, John-Travolta-dance-moves, and gymnastics. Needless to say, she loves it. She’s coming home begging to go to Cosmic’s kids class, and spontaneously popping into poses that I haven’t taught her. Fun for me! Now I have a yoga partner.
Um, yes. She’s always this calm and cooperative.
I’m saving this one for when she’s a teenager. Proof that she really does love me.
Updog. Downdog. At The Dog. I smell a Dr. Seuss inspired yoga book in the works!
Yep, any day now we’ll be booking our flight to India. Namaste, baby!