El Método Pilates

My current lack of facebook posts might have you convinced that I am fat, and although I am suffering from the effects of second-hand sugar, I promise I can still get my spandex over my rear end.  Donning said attire, I make my way three mornings a week to the Pilates studio around the corner, where I bend, contort, breathe and balance my way through a class.  It is also a good Spanish lesson, as I can now confidently recognize the phrase “No Jacqueline, not like that.  You are doing it wrong”.

I believe that every mother eventually realizes that her children have, in fact, heard every word that she’s said, and that they just don’t care.  Apparently, I am proof that it is possible to grow old and not grow wise.  Lately, my goal as a mom is simply to do no harm, but I don’t know that I always succeed.  Today, sensing that the girls need some space, I’ve locked them outside.

My favorite Pilates move is the “child’s pose”, where you just sit back on your rear and relax.  It takes absolutely no effort and even I can’t do it wrong.  I rest in this humble position, with my forehead on the floor, knowing that there is more instruction (and more correction) soon to come, but that for a moment, I can just be.  I don’t have the core strength to constantly be in balance, and while I will continue to work on being both physically and mentally flexible, sometimes I just need to pause.  I need a day with nothing but my spandex holding me together.

Why are we so hard on ourselves as mothers?  What is it that we think is supposed to be happening that isn’t? Why do we allow small preoccupations to dominate our thoughts?  Why can’t my Pilates instructor just let me be?  And what the heck is that incessant knocking at the door?

Today I am going to do things my way, and that might not be someone else’s way, but it is not wrong.