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Teeny Weeny Yogini

25 Apr

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!


More MoSto

20 Apr

I spent a fun (and long!) evening with 3 amazing friends: John Dehlin, Heather Orson Beal, and Lee White creating a Mormon Stories podcast called, “Raising Children in a Non-traditional LDS Home.” If you look under the dictionary under “non-traditional” Mormon, my picture is right there!

It might be of interest to my Mormon friends, but probably boring for the rest of y’all! Check it out here: Mormon Stories, or on I-tunes under Mormon Stories Podcast.

Not forgotten

6 Apr

I get annoyed when I ask somebody how they are and they say, “Busy. So busy!” as if that validates their importance in the world. And now – gulp – I kind of get it.

Life is abundant, full and I am surrounded by a lot of love and things I (mostly) enjoy doing.

Let’s see. There was this little girl:

Who has grown into this:

Yes, very wolf-like! I'm loving her.

Then there’s been braces and lots of trips to the dentist:

Second place in Pinewood Derby, thanks to Grandpa Jim and the i-car:

And the fashionista (who dresses herself – notice the many layers) is now reading fluently. I love it when they read fluently – no excuses for not reading the chore chart anymore:

I cannot be responsible for things I leave undone when the weather is shining – it’s out of my control. If it’s sunshiney in March, I will be outside:

In January came Teacher Training. You learn a lot more when you teach instead of take. You also can’t flake on your homework or not show up:

The mystery of how to organically remove grubs from the vegetable garden soil in time to plant veggies. Two rounds of nematodes haven’t worked:

And lemon tree leaves that are curling:

Loads of laundry. Did I mention LOADS? Aren’t we lucky to have such – um – abundance?:

The studio, the teachers, the Karma Club, the bank deposits, mopping, typing and emails. I am forever grateful to be doing what I love:

March brought a trip to Tybee Island, Georgia to retreat with friends. More on that later – happy birthday to me!:

Not enough of this:

Or this:

And certainly, no blogging.

I’ve decided that it’s time to practice what I preach and SLOW down. Since there’s nothing left to say “No” to (I’m very good at that), and nobody left to delegate to, it means some things will not get done. I’m OK with that, I think. I hope you are too!


13 Oct

I took Jamie’s Intro to Acro Therapeutics and Thai Massage on Sunday. It felt so good! I knew that it would, but I was so surprised at what happened. I was lucky enough to be partnered with Jamie and Karen and Jamie is so darn stead that I was able to just pop right up in most of the poses. (I learned that it’s a surprising challenge to be the base) About half way through the workshop, I was hanging off of his feet and I heard a pop. Then another one. Then, my shulders started bending in places they haven’t in years. It felt so good. I’ve been draping myself off of the couch, hanging off the swings at the elementary school and working on my drop backs.



I was hanging off of those swings after school with the kids and Drew said, “Oh, this feels relaxable!”

Later this afternoon, Kieran jumped on my feet for a bit of Acro and Drew finally braved it. Now, we’re the fearless flying Gallaghers. I really want to have a workshop at the studio for kids and their yoga moms. Too much fun!

kieran wp

drew wjp


6 Sep

It’s true. Truth is relative. Especially when you’re 4.

Setting the stage: We’ve made pies, and I’m turning Drew and Kieran over with the dough scraps to make tarts. It’s my way of turning them loose to learn mad baking skills without creating a massacre of the pies we’re taking to dinner tonight.

Drew: (high pitched, CUTE voice) Oh!!! I’ve made tarts before! When I was in China.

Me: When were you in China?

Drew: At night.

Me: In your dreams?

Drew: No. At night. When you weren’t looking. (keep in mind she’s been terrified of the dark lately, I’m taking this as a good sign)

Me: Wow.

Drew: Did you know I have super-powers? I’m INVINCIBLE!

Me: That’s super-cool. What does invincible mean?

Drew: I don’t know.

I suck

17 Aug

It’s official. I am not a cool mom. I am going to be known at the high school as the strange, Buddhist, Pacifist mom.

My boys are big gamers and are always scheming to get the latest game for the Wii or their DSI’s. Problem is, so many of the games are fight – simulated. Even the E rated games.

I try to be resonable, but at the end of the day, I just think war is insane, 90% of the time. Is somebody seriously threatening our freedom? Let’s become warriors. Is there terrible, horrific injustice or genocide going on somewhere? Warrior time. We THINK some guy is threatening America and stock-piling nukes, but we have no proof? Definitely time to chill out.

At the end of the day, I don’t want my kids pretending to shoot things, kill things or strategize for destruction for a good portion of their day. I don’t want to pass by their room, in my house, and hear “Kill him!” or “Got him!” I don’t want my 4-year old daughter exposed to that. And – even if the target of all of this is just monsters, even if there is no blood – doesn’t make it OK.

There are so many things that I am relaxed about, but as far as being a warrior goes, it’s time to defend my house. I want to raise thoughtful, mindful, loving people. I want to give my kids the skills and ability to question the status-quo, American style of pillaging and plundering and living a defensive life. If they grow up, move out, and set up every violent game on the planet in their dorm room, if they want to join the army – so be it. I can handle that. I can’t handle them leaving the house and knowing that I didn’t do what I could to teach them about loving-kindness, non-violence and looking at conflict in a new and productive way.

Until then, I’m OK being the kill-joy. Pun intended.

desire and attachment

6 Aug

What a fun week here in Utah with our families. My 12-year old neice Amber (AKA my new nanny) is thrilled to have her own bank account and debit card with which to do her back-to-school shopping. I chauffered her to Tar-get and Old Navy and helped her put together cute outfits. We bought a new outfit for Drew to start Kindergarten in (love the clearance racks here) and that just leaves the boys.

They say that it’s not the object of your desire that makes you happy, it’s the absense of desire that makes us happy. OK… well the interesting thing is – my boys don’t want any THING, they want to keep their attachments:

b's shoes

Both boys need new shoes. Kieran loves the attention and is happy to go pick out something new. Brandon (shoes above) desperately needs new shoes. Notice the worn in insides, the ripped toe, the blood stains. (don’t ask) He’s starting high school, I was figuring that he would at least be interested in some new footwear. His response? “I just got them broken in perfect.”

So, we’re either managing our desires, or breaking our attachments. Either way, it keeps me hopping.

PS – (added later) While shopping for shoes today and teasing the man-child about the blood on his shoes, he laughed. “Mommmm… that’s red paint from helping with that Eagle Scout Project.” That’s my boy, Mr. Goody Two Shoes. Yes, we did replace the shoes – and he was shyly proud that he went up a size.