Yoga Country

Due to circumstances outside of my control, I have to go to Nashville next week to do two days of yoga with Jimmy to keep my yoga teacher certification. Planning a trip with five to six days notice would cause me stress at the best of times, but considering I have a nine-month-old son, the stress is off the hook. I had been planning to go on a similar trip to Wisconsin the first weekend in October, giving me an additional three or four weeks to prepare a stash of pumped breast milk. (Yes, he's still mostly on breastmilk; he was a slow starter on solids. But he loves Cheerios, and he's had a little salmon and some peas...) I found out on Tuesday afternoon that the Wisconsin studio was canceling their weekend workshop, three weeks before, and Nashville was my last option or lose my teaching certification. At this point, I've never stayed a night away from the wee boy. I'm sure it will be fine; he'll be with my mother-in-law, whom I love and trust completely, and my husband, nights.

Most of the stress has been taken care of because I actually figured out that the Nashville studio (whose staff has been incredibly gracious and accommodating!) will let me come to two days of what is actually a two-week teacher training session, and I've booked the tickets. So now I have a framework, this trip IS happening, I can just plan around it now. (ie, pump like hell!)

The weird thing is I was or am in some sense *excited* for the trip. I'll get to do two hot yoga classes a day, for two days. I know that will feel amazing. I'll get three nights of uninterrupted sleep, oh frabjus joy SLEEP! But I tried very hard (and failed) to find a flight home the third night instead of staying that last night in Nashville... because I know I'm going to be missing my sweet little boy like crazy. I hope he doesn't even notice I'm gone... Not to mention I'll be pumping every three hours during the day while I'm in Nashville... which is everybody's idea of vacation fun.

Oh and before I leave for Nashville on Monday, I'm going for one night (this was supposed to be my warm-up away from the boy, month before the real thing) to the beach with the gals, Saturday. It will be a lot of fun, if I can do 87 things on Friday, and relax once I'm at the beach. Haw haw.