Is it just me or did someone add an extra day to this week? I feel like I'm stuck in some particularly demented version of that movie "Groundhog Day."
May I share my big accomplishment of the week? I stood on my head. Well, mostly. I generally attend a yoga class every Tuesday night. For part of the class, we work on inversions. As in, being upside down. Apparently there are some benefits to having your heart and feet over your head, but I'm not 100% what those are (I'm a beginner, remember). I remember standing on my head readily and easily when I was in elementary school. However, it seems like once you get to, ahem, a certain age, the thought of hoisting your lower half into the air seems almost preposterous. My daughter and I hang upside from the monkey bars at the park, but I haven't attempted a headstand in, oh, 30+ years. I also stopped doing cartwheels at some point after puberty.
For the past few months I've been practicing what is known as the headstand prep. I'll spare you a detailed explanation, but essentially you just use a couple of cork blocks to steady your neck and head as you support your weight on your forearms while your head is down, your arse is in the air, and your feet remain firmly planted. I was pretty happy just to stay with that, to be honest. However, on Tuesday the instructor encouraged me to give the headstand a try. She spotted me as I raised one leg into the air and then launched myself off the other foot. And there I was, upside down (and thankful that I was wearing a quality sports bra, otherwise my chin and my bosom would have met for the first time, I suspect). Anyway, I did it! Physically, there's a little more to me now than when I was eight, which is why I am so impressed with myself over this little victory. I say I "mostly" did a headstand because my skull was still an inch or so above the floor and my weight was supported on my forearms. Supporting all of one's weight on the head is the next step.
I told P about it when I got home and, in his typical style, he gave no reaction whatsoever. I tell you, I could set that boy on fire and he'd have very little to say about it. I guess it's better than living with a control freak, eh?
Speaking of my guy and his general reticence . . . we have a set of walkie-talkies at our house. The walkie-talkies eat batteries like mad, so both units are usually dead. However, the other day I put batteries in them. The kid was watching Mary Poppins and I was watching the Super Bowl (in separate rooms, of course) and she wanted to be able to talk to each other. I don't know what I was thinking, handing Miss Chatty a walkie-talkie, of all things. I put my unit in my pocket while I was watching the game, and all I heard was: burping, giggling, an extended rendition of "spoonful of sugar," some jokes with no discernible punchline, and some fart noises.
The batteries weren't dead by Monday, so she grabbed them as soon as she got home. She handed one to me and one to her dad. "Daddy!" she commanded. "Say something passioning to Mama!" He stood there, confused. She urged him on. Finally, he pressed the button, cleared his throat, and raised the walkie-talkie to his lips.
The kid was not having it. She wouldn't let it drop until P managed to come up with a half-hearted compliment about my eyes. But seriously, "passioning?" The child only watches children's programming - where did she come up with this? I assume she heard the word "passion" somewhere and made it into an adjective.
With Valentine's Day coming up (also my birthday, in case you wanted to send cash), I wish all of you a very passioning day with your significant other. Or a stranger - up to you.