Some days just aren't so great

But there's always something good about the practice. Today, somehow, I got deeper in Supta K than usual. I do need to do away with the grunting and moaning though. It is so unseemly. Also, I managed a rather decent Navasana and Bhujapidasana. But anything that had to do with twisting or balancing was just kind of off today. I could tell it was the twisting and not the shoulders. And what a surprise...since I went out for supper last night and helped myself to not one, not two, but three alcoholic beverages, each one a different type too, to add insult to injury. I began with a Muscati d'Asti, which is usually a dessert wine. But in the summer it is so deliciously refreshing...sweet, kind of fizzy...it reminds me of a wine cooler, and in fact, sometimes I will have a Muscati d'Asti with a splash of Fresca, just to add to the juicy, sweet, fizzy factor. Then I proceeded to have a Pear Martini, which tasted an awful lot like a pina colada, alas, there was far too much coconut rum in there, and not enough of the pear liqueur. Later, after we were joined by friends who had come from a movie, and after I had finished a "Frisee Lardons" (poached egg, pancetta crisps and a hint of gruyere over chicory and herbs) and some "Moule Frite", I helped myself to a glass of Pinot Noir. I did not finish that last one. But I certainly dented it. And then there was the chocolate banana crepe. Luckily, I don't have much of a sweet tooth, so it was easy to resist, although I was the one who ordered it for the table.

By the way, I should probably mention the name of this restaurant because it is really incredibly good and incredibly easy to get a reservation, PLUS they have live jazz on Saturday nights, and shockingly, and I do mean shockingly, it is on the Upper East Side, which has for many years been virtually a desert when it comes to fun and interesting places to eat. It's Brasserie Julien, on Third Avenue in the low 80's.

Anyway, somehow I woke up with absolutely no hangover. But my stomach was burbly and my intestines were busy still processing what probably amounted to more food and drink in a single meal what it is normally accustomed to processing in an entire day - or longer. It was more of a yoga hangover than anything else. And it's not the hair of the dog that gets you through one of those. It's time. And patience. And a willingness to fall over in Prasarita Padotannasana C (scary!), to dance a little in Uttitha Hasta Padangusthasana even with a teacher holding you up and to just accept that you're just not going to get those bhandas engaged enough to have any decent jumpthroughs or to Uddiyana Bhanda your way into Parv Parsvakona, Mari C or Mari D.

But that doesn't mean that your shoulders aren't willing. And it doesn't mean that your hips can't do their part to release your chest to the floor in Kurmasana. And somehow, it doesn't mean that your shoulders won't magically release a bit more than usual in your Urdvha Dhanurasana. And so it was a day for the sleeper poses of my practice. A practice for the underdog postures. The dark horses pulled ahead, and I feel pretty good despite that the favorites got trounced.

On other fronts, on the "I suck as a mom" front, I have tremendous guilt about something that happened yesterday, and although I know on some level it is misplaced, well, the heart feels what it feels, to paraphrase, I think, Woody Allen. Yesterday, Adam had a friend over. This friend had moved away last year when his mom remarried, and he now lives in New Jersey, but he visits NYC quite often because his dad still lives here. Well, Adam's friend came early in the day and the intention was for him to sleep over. To wit, Adam's Friend came with a "Sleepover To Do List" that looked something like this:

• Make prank phone calls
• Eat lots of sweets
• Have pillow fight
• Talk about Yuh-Gi-Oh
• See movie
• Tell ghost stories
• Tell knock-knock jokes
  
• Drink coffee so that we can stay up all night
  

I kid you not. I had to explain to Adam's Friend that no one makes prank phone calls anymore since everyone has caller I.D. I offered to take everyone to a movie instead. So, we saw Over the Hedge, which was cute. Later on, they fulfilled their pillow fight initiative, as well as knock-knock jokes and Yu-Gi-Oh discussions. But when it came to coffee, well, I suggested some iced tea instead. Seemed a bit more appropriate for seven year olds.

When The Husband and I left for dinner, it was 8:30, and the kids were in the middle of watching Cheaper By The Dozen II. An hour later, we got a phone call from Adam saying that Canyon was homesick and had called his dad to pick him up. My babysitter, my kids, me, the Husband...no one could convince him to stay.

And this is what I feel so terrible about. I don't know how or why I could blame myself for a seven-year old not being capable of having an overnight (it was his first, in fact). But somehow, I feel bad about it. As if, like maybe if I had gotten him his favorite food for dinner instead of the pizza that we had, which he said he didn't like....or if maybe I had made sure they went to bed (if he had been asleep, he wouldn't have been homesick, right?)...or if maybe I hadn't made the kids clean up the playroom before watching the movie (but I had wanted it to be calm and peaceful in there instead of chaotic...and I wanted to set up the sleeping bags, etc....)....

This is tapping into something. I just don't know what. In time, I guess it will become clear.

YC