"Mommy Yoga". Sounds great, right? I had visions of sitting down
with my toddler and whiling away the hours while getting flexible,
skinny, and karmically centered, so I eagerly opened the book "Mommy
Yoga: The 50 Stretches of Motherhood" by Julie Tilsner.
Unfortunately,
the book I wanted wasn't the book that Julie wrote. Damn. No yoga for
me. Instead, here's a flippant book of pretend semi-yoga poses all
based on one of the many quintessential (humorous) moments of motherhood.
Like, for instance, the Reed Pose: "Kneel on the hard linoleum floor
and forward arch over your child in the bathtub. When water is thrown
upon you from child's toy bucket, practice deep abdominal breathing,
repeating mantra: "No splashing. I mean it." Slowly stand up and wring
out your pants. Repeat pose as needed."
See what I mean? No
yoga. Damn. Wait, I said that already. Can you tell I'm missing the
yoga? But what you do have here is a cute book that's great to slip
into somebody's baby shower basket, or maybe as a gag girlfriend-gift
for Mother's Day. And just so you know, all the painful moments
otherwise illustrated by the Dung Beetle Pose, the Sherpa Pose, or the
Nap Pose, are eclipsed by the very last pose, called the Bliss. And I
think we all know what that one looks like.
