I was the mother of holiday invention ... until my kids went feral and I went to yoga |
At the start of school holidays, like a good disciple of modern mindfulness, I set my intention: the summer holidays will be fun and relaxing – a chance to reconnect with my kids. After all, I’d be off work as well. I would be the ringleader of fun.
By day three, however, utterly exhausted from how much fun we’d been having, I caved in and booked my four- and six-year-olds into holiday programs so I could take a meditative yoga class.
The first stage of school-holiday acceptance, denial, had swiftly transformed into the second (anger) when relentless demands for snacks were coupled with the frequent, impromptu home remodelling that small children are wont to do when screen time is refused. Plus, there was slime appearing on the walls, like something out of The Exorcist.
It helps to keep the kids – and their parents – occupied.Credit: Getty Images
The third stage, depression, swiftly followed. I needed some me time.
As I lay in a darkened room, limbs contorted in an unnatural position while the meditative yoga instructor struck tiny, expensive cymbals, probably handmade in Tibet, I realised my stamina for........