It’s almost 11 months now that I’ve been practicing yoga. This pose, marichyasana I, has been my thorn. It’s the one pose that I’ve been trying and trying to do, yet couldn’t.

But here’s the thing about yoga, if you try hard enough, one day you can do it. On Sunday I bought the November issue of Yoga Journal, this pose was inside — in fact if you click on the photo you can read all about how to do this pose. You know, in case you want to try it right there in your homes. Or the office. I won’t tell.

Anyhow, I turned to my husband and said, “This is the pose that I need to do. Once I can do this pose I’ll be happy.”

On Tuesday night I did this pose. Okay, so it was only on the left side and it did not look at all this pretty. When my hands touched behind my back I was so surprised! I may be the only yoga student to ever shout out during class: awesome!

I guess that means that now I’m happy.

2004 Honda Civic Hybrid, otherwise known as Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

In the last 8-1/2 years my assistant has couriered for me: a forgotten diaper bag from home, a forgotten violin to school, backordered insulin needles for my diabetic cat, and a forgotten toiletry bag to camp.

Surely I can’t be the only mom out there who relies on a courier service every now and then?

I wish we would have skipped it.

It was awful. AWFUL.

(this is a spoiler alert, if you don’t want to know what happens then don’t read on)

There was so much disrespect, fighting, and I’m pretty sure I heard a few swear words in there too.

My daughter burst into tears when one of the wild things, KW, threw a big rock at a flying bird, making it fall to the ground. And then KW did it again to another bird. I’m not surprised that it affected Zoe as much as it did, this summer she was devastated when a little boy at camp stomped on a butterfly that she had just saved.

As it turns out, the birds were owls, and they were KW’s friends. FRIENDS! And that was how KW got their attention. But Zoe was totally appalled by it. I flinched a bit too, and now that I think of it, pelting a friend with a rock really isn’t very nice. I can’t imagine I’d have very many friends if I threw rocks at them.

Anyhow, this was the point in the movie that Zoe decided to put her sweatshirt over her head because she couldn’t watch it anymore. About 10 minutes later the wild things started a war with each other, and then I couldn’t even follow what in the heck was going on.

Next thing I know, Zoe’s bawling and asking to leave the movie because it’s too scary.

So her and I left.

Granted I didn’t see the last 15 minutes, but my husband did, and that’s good enough for me and we both agree: Where The Wild Things Are is THE STUPIDEST MOVIE EVER.

And 100% not kid appropriate.

Especially when Max jumped on the kitchen counter at the beginning of the movie and shouted at his mother: “MAKE ME SOME FOOD WOMAN!”

• Yoga. It kicked my @ss last night.
• Reading. I finished both Her Fearful Symmetry and Twenties Place
• Watching The Biggest Loser season 7. OMG. I can’t stop myself!
• Deleting files off of my laptop because I have no space!!
• Parents night at Zoe’s dance class. Note to self: a room of little girls in tap shoes can be VERY loud.

Ollie is a boys name!

Ollie is a dumb name!

Finally Zoe said to me: “We can name her Olivia and you can call her Olive.” Sounded like a good deal to me, so I agreed to it, and now everyone is calling her Olive.

I win.

Olive and Rudy

Olive is super sweet, and if I had to guess I’d say she was a Ragdoll Cat. She’s perfectly fine laying on your lap for hours on end, purring the entire time.

Rudy, on the other had, can’t sit still until he’s exhausted from play. Luckily Jasper, my four year old cat, is totally up for playtime. Those two stalk each other, play hide and seek, bat glitter balls back and forth, and run around the house like it’s an obstacle course. Last night Rudy ran under the dining room table as Jasper leaped OVER the table and tagged him: You’re It! Jasper has always done this, but usually it’s with myself or my husband — and we weren’t clued in prior that we were in a race across the house with the cat.

Olive and Maisy

What do the dogs think?

Phoebe could care less. Just stay off of my doggy bed and we’ll all be happy.

Maisy sure would like to join in on the fun though. If Boxers had the option to be cats, I think Maisy would be first in line.