Andrew was teasing me about doing yoga today. I don't know why he was teasing me because he's the one who looked ridiculous.
Rachel was on the floor rocking on her hands and knees. Being the encouraging father that Andrew is, he got down on his hands and knees and started crawling in circles around her saying,
"Come on, Rachel, this is how it's done!"
He then proceeded to tell me that if I were to crawl around all day tomorrow, Rachel would surely start crawling.
"You could just do everything on your hands and knees," he said, "even yoga!"
Then he started walking on his knees while doing an awkward sequence of arm movements.
"Hey," I said, "I don't think you should make fun of yoga until you try it."
Mostly I think that because it kicked my trash the first time I tried it. Haven't made fun of it since.
"Why don't you do PM yoga with me?"
Andrew got me an AM/PM yoga DVD for Christmas. The AM routine is pretty straight forward but the PM routine is rather difficult. Andrew looked at me with mock terror in his eyes,
"My bodymind is screaming, 'No, not PM yoga!'"
At least he recognizes that it's hard.
Anyway, I'd better go. He just crashed into the baby gym/couch/wall screaming, "Ahhh! These legs don't have breaks on them!" I think he might actually be in pain.