Ah yes. Life.

One thing about having a house full of children is that it is never quiet. Rather, it is rarely quiet. Exceptions are when everyone is asleep, they are really engrossed in a new movie (which doesn't include Boots as he's still too young and hasn't discovered the allure of television), or something very naughty is going on.

Many mothers find the quiet of the early morning their best/only chance at "me" time. We like to think we can enjoy it after they are all in bed, but most moms I talk to are so tired by that point that it's not productive or quality time, and they would be better off going to bed themselves. I, however, am not a fan of early rising. But I may be getting there.

Having a teen in the house, combined with longer daylight hours (and lets not mention my inability to have supper on the table any earlier than 7pm - hey, we're on the European schedule, ok? lol) has shifted the wake times of our children to 9 pm or later, and of myself to around midnight. But the wake up times don't seem to be as affected. Koko is definitely my early bird, and Boots seems to like to follow that trend also. Problem with him is, he can't be left unattended, as tested by my having to go outside to get him a few times, in my underwear, at 7am. Good thing there's not much traffic on Main Street at 7am.

This a.m. arrived like most others, earlier than my tired body wanted, with a dangerously naked-butted child calling out for a diaper. (Which in case you don't get that means, I had better put one on him or bad things will happen.) So up I jumped, er, slithered. Koko was quick to join us, and the three of us enjoyed a rather quiet breakfast. It was then I suggested yoga. Koko has an interest in yoga, for some reason, so she was gung ho. Even Boots, never wanting to be left out of the action, joined in.

As the yoga session went on, Boots, not surprisingly, lost interest, and Koko found it not as stimulating, and a little more challenging, than she had thought. George and Cheeks had also descended, and sat watching, less than enthused, as the movie Fly Me To The Moon seemed a much better idea. Mommy, however, pursued.

And as fate would have it, when a parent tries to do anything uninterrupted, a conversation, balancing the checkbook, or a prenatal yoga relaxation video, things will not go their way. George kept insisting to me that I should be done. Koko was almost literally climbing the walls in the next room, and Boots was emptying the contents of my purse, applying as much lip gloss and mascara to his body as was though humanly possible. But Mrs. Bananas carried on, doing her best to ignore and/or manage the chaos around her.

At the end of the video, the narrator was telling me to "inhale and let all your tension release." It was at that point that Boots was pushing the panic button on my car keys, and George was talking about farts.

Ah, yes. 

You can either laugh or cry. Today I chose to laugh.

Next time, I will choose to do yoga after everyone is in bed.