lorelai: 2. mom: 0.

Me: It's almost time for bed.

Lorelai: Can I just read for a little bit longer? (1 POINT - LORELAI)

Me: Of course.

I look into her room+she's reading the freaking dictionary.

(2 POINTS - LORELAI)

She wins this round.

lulu look at my ass.

Have you heard of LuLuLemon? It's a workout clothing company.

There's one in town. I walk by, but never go in .I just can't seem to make work-out-specific clothes make sense.

SWEATS ARE SO MULTIFUNCTIONAL! You know those sweats you bought 6 years ago that are too small now? Not they're sexy lil house pants that you can sloppily seduce your lover with while you re-heat 2-day-old leftovers+drink wine that's been aerated cus you forgot to put the top back on last night. You know those sweats your partner has? They're your period pants when said partner doesn't notice. You know those sweats your ex left at your house before ya'll broke up? They're kindling for a fire. As far as tops - gimme a racerback tank any day! You can wear it to the gym+then wash your pits in the bathroom sink+roll out onto the streets+then take your bra off at the end of the day+you have instant pajamas. Or maybe I'm the only one that does these things.

Also, $$. I looked online. A pair of pants+a top will run you $100. That's from the sale section...

And then there's the fact that I've only done yoga once.

I mean, folks are into the clothes or the company wouldn't be in business. I'm sure the quality is superb+that they've got awesome customer service+that they take care of their employees. I haven't checked Yelp, but that's probably the case. Lululemon has made it. That's awesome for them. Really.

All of that aside, on the list of Last Things I Want To See On Any Given Day is: fit women in yoga clothes. And whadya know... at the store last night, I spotted one. She was right beside me in line.

Between quickly scarfing down the double-serving of cheese+cracker samples that I had Lorelai get for me from the cheese section+trying to simultaneously suck my stomach in+also trying to come across as flippantly confident, I'm pretty sure I was exuding sheer+utter core strength. My Downward Dog confidence was in full  force. Bikram+Vinyasa ain't got shit on me when I'm feeling like crap!

Really tho... She was all:

And I was all: [imagine me looking all frumpy with cheese+crackers stuffed in my cheek+my stomach sucked in underneath all of my layers of non-form-fitting clothes+Lorelai standing next to me wondering why I was being all weird+staring at the lady next to me in such a salty way.]

The lady next to me didn't care.

I did. Obviously.

Or I wouldn't have noticed that she looked disheveled but totally hawt. She seemed to be lacking the guile to have planned her perfectly mussed hair+dewy glow. It's just how it she rolled after yoga or whatever. Then I looked at her butt when she turned around (you would have too. duh.) +it was pert+firm+there it was... the freaking Lululemon logo staring back at me.

KHAAAAAAN!

I gotta get back in shape, man. I don't think I'll buy workout clothes, but I wanna be in shape in such a way that I can almost justify needing special clothes for all the flexible+strong things that I do at the gym. Until that day. I should also prolly work on my self-confidence. Cus who cares who wears what at the grocery store? Heh. I DO!

So. Yes. Gym. But not tonight tho... I have some beer at home that I gotta finish so that I'm not tempted by it when I for real get serious about working out.

ps. Had this convo w/Rhasaan while writing this:

R: Whatcha doing?

Me: Writing.

R: About what?

Me: Yoga pants.

R: Nice!

Me: *shoots eyeball daggers*

R: What?! You look nice in yoga pants!

Me: I DON'T HAVE ANY YOGA PANTS! I have SWEATS!

R: ...

lorelai was here.

let's go fly a kite.

I love flying kites. I got my posse to roll with me this time.

dancer. singer. water baby.

It's hard to let go, breathe+let your kid do their thing sometimes. You want them to do well. You don't want them to get hurt. You want them to have fun.

Sometimes (for some parents, it's more often than 'sometimes') you don't want them to embarass you.

In public, fisures of tension develop as soon as you walk out of the door with the kid(s)+the fisures become tectonic plates ready to rub+shake off the cool-parent demeanor that you're trying to present. You go into a restaurant+your kid plops on the floor+makes a cape out of a table cloth or whatever+then decides to lick the plates+cups at the table for some kid reason+then they have to go pee. Like, they HAVVVVVE TO GO PEEEEEE. Right now. RIGHT. NOW.

Pseudo cool-parent demeanor is gone+your fisure-turned-tectonic-plates rub+your voice turns from awesome MILF voice to straight-up Mom voice: "GetOffTheFloor+StopLickingStuff+IKnowYouDon'tHaveToPeeWeWentBeforeWeLeft"

It happens.

Mostly, though. It's not that serious.

I'm CONSTANTLY learning this.

Let her do her thing. Let her dance around while standing in line at the store cus she's an amazing dancer, really+she has a bit of a hard time staying still. Let her sing even if it's mostly quiet cus her voice is so pretty+she's got a song she wants to get out. Let her play in the rain.

She asked, "Mom. Can I meditate in the rain?" "Yes." She connects with water+she wanted to be spiritual with it. Even though it was a little cold+a wet kid can be a whiney kid, that specific question came from a special kid place.

She meditated in the rain for a bit+then danced in it. You can't shush that up or tell that to stay still or tell that to 'stop.' Or, you can, but it'd suck for the kid+it'd suck for you. I love what my kid teaches me. By letting her do constructive (no matter how minute) things, I'm giving her confidence+also momentary (or lifetime) bits of happiness for her+me+you, if you happen to see my little girl meditating+dancing in the rain.

It fucking rocks.