Pilates, grief, and humor

Today I didn’t have child care in the morning, but I had a Pilates appointment. So, I got all three kids together, and off we went, me pushing the stroller and Hazel riding her balance bike. My Pilates teacher is open to having kids at appointments, and I have taken Hazel a time or two before, when she was a baby. They did well. My Pilates teacher brought out a bouncy seat, in which both of the twins then spent some time. She held Emily for part of the time. She provided puzzles and balls for Hazel to play with. And she gave me the good, detailed, attentive instruction I appreciate. I’m definitely getting stronger. I was able to do something today I couldn’t do at all the first week I came in. I can feel my abs improving.


This evening I went to see a friend who’s losing a parent. I brought some flowers for him to bring into the hospital, and a card for his dad, saying goodbye. I’ve known his dad for over a decade. No idea if he’ll be aware enough to hear it tomorrow, but it’s a way for me to say goodbye. I thought, as I have plenty of times before, how we don’t learn how to process or communicate about death and loss. What a rough time. It’s something we all face in our lives, but it’s easy to feel very isolated or alone in grief. I am grateful to have such a close set of friendships between him and his wife and Ted and me. We can all support each other, and speak openly about how we feel. One thing I’m glad for is that his dad has had a good relationship for the past decade or so with a woman who loves him, who has really seen him for who he is and recognized his wonderful qualities. It’s such a universal human feeling, to want to be loved, to want to be seen and understood. He was alone for a lot of years, but I’m glad that he’s had that love in his life more recently.


On my break at work today I pumped some milk to partially make up for the bottles my nanny was going to use while I was gone. I had it up on the high shelf in my studio, well back to make sure it wouldn’t get knocked over. My last student of the day (11-year-old kid) saw it and picked up one of the other bottles.

“What’s this?”
“Well, it’s my milk.”
“It’s milk?”
“Where’s it from?”
“Well, it’s my milk.”
“But where’s it from?”
“Well, you know, it’s MY milk, you know, for the babies.”
“Why don’t you get started on the exercise. I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
“Ok, I’ll get warmed up.”

I’m thinking, I’m already warm. Why didn’t I hide that in the bag??? Ah well, live and learn. And I had to admit, even at the time, that it was hilarious.


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