Not So Zen

I’ve had bad prenatal yoga karma this week. All my teachers seem to be allergic to standing poses, so I leave class feeling as slothful as I started, necessitating more exercise (grr). David and I have started walking at night again, so that’s good.

I went to my Weds. class looking forward to seeing my favorite prenatal teacher  – she doesn’t do the singsongy thing and she doesn’t play bad music – and she was out. They had a guy subbing. He was okay, but again, no vinyasa, no standing poses, no sweating. He also missed the memo on pregnant women being hot all the time. I ended up asking him to crank the AC, which I thought was funny since I am by far the least prone to over-heating in a room full of 3rd trimester ladies.

Then last night I went to the class I tried last week – the one with the cool pregnant lady who played the insanely bad music. I figured I could remember the name of the song this time and share it with y’all. But she was out, and this older hippie lady subbed. I should have just rolled up my mat and left when I saw the all white clothing. Nausea + Kundalini Yoga = non mixy things. If you’ve never taken Kundalini Yoga, most of it is various movements coordinated with breath. But they do them really fast and incredibly repetitively. So swinging my head from side to side rapidly for five minutes at a time – NOT GOOD. I slowed everything down as much as I could, but it still suuuuuucked.

Plus Kundalini music is mildly annoying at the best of times – 2 smushy chords played over and over again with some airy vocal track in Hindi with horrible American pronunciation – but hey, at least it’s in another language and not to distracting, right? Right? Until she decided to play this horrible Grateful Dead meets Hari Krishna piece of drivel with lyrics like “I am Me. I am Me. There is one God and that’s a fact!”  I’m quoting directly here folks. She played this DURING MEDITATION. And she tried to get us to sing this Happy Tree Squirrel song at the end. FAIL.

Crappy yoga aside, I’m doing okay. My belly is growing. It’s such a reflex to beat myself up for any visible weight gain, it’s been interesting to learn to just deal with the belly and quit judging it. It sure isn’t going anywhere – except out. Ah, the joys of shortness. My mother in law who is tall said she didn’t show for quite a while with her first child. No such luck for me. But it’s cool, I just need some more maternity pants, stat. Shirts are still fine.

The weather here is still nuts, but we’ve had a couple of breaks in the heat. Today looks like it might be marginally better, and I have a massage! Yay! So I plan on being comatose for the remainder of the day. Cheers!