I'm still adjusting to this whole working in an office thing. It's wild the various ramifications it has. It's sorta funny how things come together. In my past life, working from home, I wouldn't likely have much time to sit and think without a bazillion other things going on around me. Having two parents who work from home and two kids at home 67% of the time, well, things can get hairy. I actually have time to myself right now... It's wierd and just a 5 minute commute makes me feel like I have this moment of regrouping to change hats. I was just wearing like 4 hats at a time back then and I didn't see it. So, yea, I'm seeing *some* positives along with all those big bumps of giving up something it felt like I had grasped hold of.

Anyway, during one of these moments of solitude (scary that I find driving home at 5pm with all the other wackos driving like a bat out of hell back to their respective home lives more a sense of solitude than the dance I did before), I had the thought that The Son is still in a carseat. See right now we are having all these discussions about birthdays and birthday parties (we're pushing for the family trip to Disneyland vs. having a sleepover for 8 year olds AND a gymnastic birthday party for The Daughter's crew all in one week). The Son will be 8 next month, The Daughter 5. He's the only 8 year old I know that is still in a carseat. The law clearly states that 6 OR 60 pounds is acceptable. He weighs about 55 pounds now. But the pictures all show the placement of the seatbelt and it just doesn't seem like he's there yet.

I sorta forgot about the thought process and tonight I heard the son really upset in the other room. He was telling The Husband how much he doesn't want to sit in a carseat anymore and how he's the only child who is still in one. Now, I haven't decided if I'm proud or not that my son is the only child who "a few things" such as the only child in his class that isn't allowed to eat the cookies on the teacher's desk but when he actually starts to mention stuff, I know it's coming from some deep place within him and I try to take notice. We decided we'll try it.

There's been a couple times lately when The Son has said "I can't believe you are doing this. I can't believe you are letting me go or letting me do this or saying that." Everytime he says it I feel really conflicted. Am I so far outside of his realm of reality? Why would he be that surprised? Have I been that much of an ogre about letting him do the things that lots and lots of kids do? Are all my restrictions going to make him a better person or just the one that remembers his mom & dad were sorta the "hippy parents" on the street? I mean I actually know parents who identify their parents that way and, honey, I got checkmarks all down that description.

What kids remind us is that we have to always ask ourselves if we are getting just way too comfortable and we've stopped listening.

It was only later that I remembered that The Nanny had picked up The Son and his little best friend and the best friend's little brother who is a kindergartner... and, oh by the way, doesn't sit in a carseat.

What kids remind us is that the value of yoga is teaching us flexibility -- on the mat and off, in our minds and out, for someone else or for ourselves.