olivia jean

I write this from the total darkness of Olivia’s bedroom. We are sitting in her rocking chair having a 10pm nursing session because that’s what Monday nights look like for us. They’re long and it’s late and we both end up crying because our schedules don’t mesh.

For two years, I have taught the same 7:15, level 1 yoga flow. Students have come and gone over the years, and some very special ones have stayed. They’re so special to me; we hug, laugh, and jive over the same successes and failures of our life and yoga practice - which makes it HARD for me to make this decision.

I think that it’s finally time I give it up.

I leave at 6:45 for class at 7:15, and by the time class is over, I don’t get back to O until 8:35. This is right in the middle of her bedtime, and she just doesn’t do well without her usual nursing session.

I’m lucky to have my dad always watch O while I’m teaching for two hours. But for the past month or two, every. single. Monday. that I come to pick her up, she’s huffing and puffing in her sleep from screaming for the past hour and a half. My dads at his wits end, and I end up feeling guilty.

Not to mention, Tyler doesn’t even get to see me or Olivia until at least 10pm, and at that point, Olivia is ready to be transferred to bed and he’s ready to pass out.

On Mondays I am left tired, I am left hungry, guilty, and longing for more pillow talk with Ty before he spontaneously zonks out mid conversation (how do guys do that?…)