Bubble & Squeak

So I made it to yoga. The kids were at school. I wasn’t even late.

Funny how these classes attract the weirdest bunch of people around though, isn’t it? I could have predicted who, out of all my acquaintances living in this valley, would be there. It was yoga after all.

I walked in the room to find the scattiest girl in the valley and the second most scatty having a conversation with each other about health food. They are both staunch vegetarians, both Steiner School educated – themselves and their kids, both extremely excellent at yoga and two of the most ‘out-there’ people I have ever met. I stood there thinking shit, I’ve never done this before and they can all stand on their heads for ten minutes at a time. I don’t fit in, I can’t even touch my toes, I am going to embarrass myself in front of them all.

Then I had a much, much more horrifying thought – what am I worrying about? I am just like them, I want to HOME SCHOOL my kids, for God’s sake. Give me three or four sessions and I will be chortling on about the state of the school canteen just like them and I’ll be doing it on my head.

Whilst we sat there holding onto our toes as a warm up for something much mote tortuous (and that in itself was pretty bad), I – defying the words of the teacher, “Just let your mind remain empty,” – was humming with brain activity.

‘I wonder if I am labelled as being scatty too? But I can’t be that bad, I didn’t forget my dog last week from the park, letting it terrorize all the other dogs for 45 minutes until I came back to pick it up again. Plus, I don’t have really, really deep conversations with people, letting them speak for five minutes and then absent-mindedly saying, “Oohh, I love your shoes,” with a blank expression, as if I have been a hundred miles away. I am not like that, not like that at all.’

But I wasn’t convinced. I saw myself in a few years time saying to my neighbour on the mat next to me, “Yeah, I’ve been un-schooling for three years now, the children wouldn’t want it any other way.” How grim.

But then I remembered something that managed to placate me. Even though I was a vegetarian for 15 years until I was told that I really looked like I needed a good rump steak (by dOH on our first date). Even though I insist on buying eco washing-up liquid and toothpaste without glycerin in it. Even though I have not followed through on my girls’ vaccination program and I would really like to live in a tipi, I have one thing that is nowhere near a common factor with the other women here. I have NO MONEY. I could never afford an au pair to look after my kids whilst I did this yoga class. That sets me apart pretty nicely, thank you very much. I feel as if I can go ahead and homeschool my girls now without fear – fear that it will all be too easy for me. Let’s face it, I certainly won’t be able to come to these classes once my kids are at home, unless they come too.

I felt more confident after that thought; I could settle down and concentrate on the class, without worrying that I would be forever more labelled as ‘one of them’. I even made a joke about it being easier to lie horizontally and go to sleep rather than attempting the next pose, which was ’supposedly’ a cure for insomnia. I even smiled when I was met with a, “Well, we’re not here to lie on the floor and go to sleep now, are we?” from the teacher, especially as nobody else smiled. Ha ha, I am obviously the only one with the sense of humour here then aren’t I, ladies? Another thing to add to the list: 1) no money and 2) funny with it.

So back at home I started to allow myself to feel excited about yoga and even more excited about my future in poverty with my children at home with me. So much so, that I attempted to do a headstand in the middle of the room, much to the delight of Bubble and Squeak. “Do it again mummy, do it again!” No. I’d rather not – I just felt as if my retinas had detached themselves from my eyeballs.

Looks like I will have to put off my upside-down banter with my scatty friends for quite a while yet.