Juicy Hips

Today we went to Prenatal Partner Yoga...and yes, for those of you who are wondering, it was partially during the Super Bowl. I would like to say that I signed us up for the class as a way to show Cati I love her so much more than football, but actually I had no idea the Super Bowl would be in February. Once I realized my "mistake", I knew I couldn't go back. How do you explain to your wife that you are choosing the Super Bowl over Prenatal Partner Yoga? You don't, and you can't. You might as well tell her you're putting the child up for adoption. It's funny how things have gotten, how there's a whole new matrix of ways to show you're being supportive. 20 years ago, how many women judged the supportfulness of their husbands based on whether they'd go to Prenatal Partner Yoga with them?

Having said all that, it was really a nice class. The first thing they did was have us sit back to back and breathe and all that good stuff. Then we turned to face each other, and I was supposed to just put my hands on her head and look at her while her eyes remained closed. Having a chance to just look at Cati like that, think about the life growing in her, and how lucky I was, brought a lump to my throat. And almost the moment I felt choked up, a tear snuck its way from Cati's closed eye and rivered down her cheek. I can't say I know exactly what happened right then, Cati's fairly prone to crying these days anyway, but it put me a bit in awe of the mystery that connects us to the ones we love.