With a growing vocabulary comes an ever-greater arsenal of malapropisms:
- "the baste" for "the [Navy] base"
- "uzeemee" for "museum"
- "sunscream" for "sunscreen"
He's been more open with his dance moves lately. His hips are loose and his buns are a-shakin. He even busted a few moves at a street festival we went to this weekend. A couple Friday nights ago when Noah had watch duty, we spent a good amount of time dancing to the samba background track on my keyboard.
Today was his first day of spring break (Lord help me) and I took him to yoga with me.*
* Yeah, the gyms on base offer free group fitness classes, and I started taking advantage of them last week. That's called ACHIEVEMENT.
I was a little worried about what might happen, but he was pretty good. He did some light weightlifting with a couple half-pound dumbbells during warm ups, he took the opportunity to crawl under me during down-dog, and in a couple of particularly challenging star poses he inched his face so close to mine I could feel his breath against my nose as he whispered "I love you" sotto voce. As the instructor was leading us through a brief guided meditation at the end of class, I had to use all my willpower not to crush my visualized heart lotus as he blew rather loud and sloppy kisses in my direction.
The instructor and my fellow classmates were super accommodating, praising his goodness and whatnot. However when the gym director approached me after class to say they have a policy against bringing children, I could have karate chopped her. Was she professional and nice about it? Yes. But don't nobody tell my baby he can't be somewhere.
And for your edification, here's a video of me doing my daily yoga: