S is going to Africa for work for three weeks. It's the first "long" trip she's had since the little guy was born. She did go away another time, about a year ago, but the trip was shorter. And for that trip, we sent Lil' S to South Carolina to stay with his grandparents. We're not doing that this time for a variety of reasons. First, there's the purely logistical issue of getting him to South Carolina; second, I don't want to be away from him for three weeks; third, he's not a baby anymore, but he's also not yet a "little boy". He's at that tweener age where he's physically able to get himself into precarious positions, and he lacks the necessary sense to prevent himself from doing so (I think this phase will end right around 25). And there is absolutely no reasoning with him. He doesn't even get little kid logic yet. We can't threaten to take his toys away or put him timeout or anything like that. He's still too young for all this.
As a result, taking care of him can be physically exhausting, and as much as I love my in-laws, physical strength is not their collective strong suit. Now, I'm sure they could make do; they probably have that weird grandparent strength that's not really strength, but rather technique and experience that comes from raising two kids for 20 years. (They're like the crafty basketball veterans who can no longer jump and are the slowest people on the court, yet still manage a nightly double-double from pure guile -- think Charles Barkley with the Rockets.) But still it makes me a bit nervous; I'd rather be around to keep up with him and keep a close eye on him.
So, the little man couldn't go to his Ava, but she could come here -- which is exactly what she did on Wednesday. My mother in-law is here and going to stay with us while S is away; my father in-law will join us for the last week. We're currently still in the "warm-up stage" that occurs anytime a toddler meets a "new" adult -- he's a little standoffish -- but I think things will be cool in a few days. It's simultaneously funny and sad how unintentionally cruel little kids are. All his Ava wants -- the singular most important thing in her life right now -- is to win her grandson's affection, and he does nothing but dis her at every turn. For instance, I put him on the sofa between us and started reading him a book, slowly trying to transition to his Ava reading it to him, and as soon the book got near her lap, he would rip it away, scream, "NO!", and put it on my lap. Or she would hold out a toy for him, and he'd run over, take it from her, and then run away -- like I said, funny and sad.
I remember one of my nephews treated my mom like this for a while. I guess it's just part of being around kids that age. It's (obviously) nothing personal, but I image it still hurts a bit. It wouldn't hurt me, but as my wife is fond of saying, I'm part robot. The thing is, Lil' S used to spend a lot of time with his Ava -- she was out here for the first six months of his life -- so I think somewhere in the recesses of his brain he remembers her. I can already see hims starting to get comfortable. By next week, I bet everything will be completely cool.
In other news, I've started doing yoga. I've been at it a couple months now. I used to make fun of people (especially men) who did yoga because it always seemed like a wuss workout -- it was for people who couldn't handle real exercise like running and weight lifting. But I was having a lot of problems with my back (an old issue), and I was having trouble finding the time to go to the gym and the weather was terrible, so I was looking for something I could do at home, and I heard former WWE wrestler "Diamond" Dallas Page hocking his "DDP Yoga". It supposedly helped all these old wrestlers who whose bodies had been ravaged by years of mistreatment (apparently being hit repeatedly by a folding his not good for you), and it worked Arthur. So I bought the videos, and gave it a shot.
It's been awesome so far. My back feels a lot better now (still not 100%), and I can actually get a legit workout in my basement, which is pretty sweet. The thing is, it's almost false advertising to call it yoga. It incorporates some of the "traditional" yoga positions (e.g., down dog), but a lot of it is isometrics and calisthenics. Although, I guess it's fair to call it yoga because that word has already been so bastardized that it's fair game to call just about any exercise in which you use a mat yoga. Real yoga is a physical and spiritual practice founded in ancient India and mostly associated with Hinduism (when I told my mother in-law I was doing yoga she perked up for a moment before I told her it was fake yoga). Devotees are called yogis, and they ply their discipline to try to achieve some sort of divine freedom called moksha. It's a far cry from getting decked out in Lululemon gear and going to a studio to do a bunch of stretches led by a white woman from Takoma Park.
Not that there's anything wrong with this. But we should call it something different, otherwise it's misleading (and perhaps a bit insulting). From now on, I'm not going to call what I do yoga -- I'm going to call it "fake yoga". Or how about just "exercise"? Saying "I do yoga" is like saying "I take communion" because I sometimes eat bread and drink wine.
Alright, that's all I got today.
Until next time ...
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