I must be truthful.

It is with me that I have to be honest with you all about something. Last night, I acted like I was so excited about going to practice yoga with Mommy, and kept trying to find a comfortable spot that would take up about half of her yoga mat. She's not very big, so half is enough for her, isn't it? When she was doing her sun salutations, and would need to step or jump back into plank from a standing forward fold, her foot would always hit me. And I would jump off the mat and run around it. Once she was standing, I would go back to the same spot, and once she jumped back, I would jump off the mat and run around it again. She laughed, and said we were having a little game.

Then it was time for her to play dead, "savasana", she calls it. I mean, really, can't we be simple and just say play dead? Anyway, I sat over her, rolled over on her, put my head down by hers, sat on her stomach, nudged her with my nose, talked to her, and paced back and forth beside her mat in the stompy way that I do that makes my tags jingle. Finally, I sat down again, and drooled on her forehead. She had been laughing until then, but she got up and asked me if I needed to go potty. I didn't.

So here is what I need to be truthful about, because that is an important thing. In yoga talk, this is called "satya". (And see? I know that!) I am so mad I cannot see straight about her going to the yoga teacher training without me and leaving me here with Daddy, and I did all of that just to bother her. I am thinking I might do it again. This morning when she went to practice, I did not even bother to move to go with her, and I wish I had so I could have interfered a little more.

Lordy, I am mad. I don't want to talk about this anymore.

Enjoy your day, and be truthful. Oh, and dance some.

I am practicing not reacting.

Mommy is going to be a yoga teacher, she said. She was accepted to the teacher training, and she told me that from December until May, she'll be gone a few days each month. I do not get to go.

Personally, I don't understand why not. I bring so much to Mommy's yoga practice and meditations, sometimes she has to come up with these things she calls modifications so I can be on her mat with her. Sometimes I get under her so she won't bop her forehead on the floor if she falls out of something, and I always make sure she's okay. I can meditate. I have never chewed on one of those cork blocks she uses sometimes, and she even gave me my own yoga mat when she got a new one. I am fully potty trained and know my manners. So I don't know why I can't go.

She has told me that she needs someone to watch over the house to make sure Daddy doesn't burn it down or put holes in the walls, but she could call Grandmama for that. She said she will be in the car for a few hours on the way there and back, but I love rides, so that one's not passing muster either. So while Mommy gets to go and stand on her head and be further enlightened and all that, I get to sit here. With Daddy. And my kitten, of course, but - still.

So I am simply not going to react. I am going to accept until my ears smoke, but I am not going to react to this. Daddy can't cook like Mommy. He doesn't know where to put my morning treat on the floor by my dish for me to find it when I come back in from my morning constitutional. He doesn't understand that the placement of my blanket is very important. He and I have our fun little games, but my place is with my mommy and that means I want to go to the yoga teacher training with her. But I am not reacting. I'm not.

I am going to sit and not react while I pretend I get to go.

Enjoy your day and dance some while I just keep right on not reacting,