I wrote this little ditty for mom.me. It has nothing to do with yoga. :)
My toddler son and I spend a lot of time at the children's museum. It's an oasis — that rare place where a rambling, fired-up little guy can run freely, a sanctuary of rounded corners and rubbery surfaces where I can sit down and exhale for a minute or two without worrying that he's going to dart into the street or careen down a staircase.
But every time we go, I find myself stealthily scoping out the other mothers (or fathers or nannies or grandparents) and wondering what they're thinking. Are they, too, relieved and exhausted and under-showered and over-caffeinated? Do they look at me and see a cool, calm mama?
If only they knew...
1. Why doesn't the cafe serve wine?
2. My kid is cuter than yours.
3. Where’s the Purell?
4. These tiny potties and sinks are brilliant engineering.
5. If I had a dollar for every kid named Carter, Ava, Miles or Sophia, I could buy this place.
Read the rest here.