I am not a sentimental person. If I were in a scenario where a group hug was involved, I would for sure make an awkward sarcastic comment about hoping everyone enjoys the scent of my armpits. Or if someone were to look into my eyes to serenade me lovingly, I would feel really uncomfortable, and look away periodically while I wished the earth would swallow me. I have a hard time losing myself and not being hyper conscious, so I tend to brush off potentially sappy moments with cynicism – especially since I stopped smoking weed.

I guess I am the type of person who not only says what type of person I am, but who also is aware enough to know that everything is absurd… including myself. I don’t want to be seen as someone who is saccharin because deep down I know behind every amazing memory, there was also an instance where I thought about how long I had to hold in my fart so as not to offend anyone. No matter how beautiful, or sincere, I am always cognizant that my mind travels to the mundane, or the ludicrous, and that is just the nature of thinking.

But today I had a moment. A moment that just moved me.

Granted, I am feeling pretty vulnerable lately. I sprained a ligament in my knee, and have had to take it easy for a bunch of days. Which is surprisingly not easy at all. If I don’t move my body I start to feel depressed. Today I wanted to crawl out of own skin, lay beside my exposed nerves, and flick them with rubber bands. So I decided to do some gentle yoga to get my blood going and feel connected to my body again.

The Munch was hanging out with me, and I ended up practicing for 2 ½ hours with her. She would play with her babies, come talk to me, ride her bike around, wrestle with me, bump her head, cry in my arms, bounce on her trampoline, fall because her socks are slippery, cry in my arms again, make me watch her “jump” rope (which consists of her stepping over a rope), play with her babies, ride her bike, come talk to me, have to go potty…

At the end of yoga you do this pose called “shavasana,” which is the corpse pose. Essentially you lay on your back and be one with the cosmos… or whatever. I had my “spotify” going and this song called “Daughter” came on. It was a classic hipster chick song, but the melody was mesmerizing and I couldn’t help but think of my own daughter.

I appreciate that The Munch and I can co-exist like this. With her living her life, and me living mine, but together. Maybe she interrupts, and wants my attention every so often, but I like spending time with her. Hearing her antics. She still lets me do my thing even if she wants to be acknowledged. I thought about how The Munch has been doing yoga with me since I was pregnant. I remembered going upside down and watching my belly as she would readjust inside of me. And then how when she was a baby, I would do the same shavasana pose with her laying on my tummy – with our hearts pressing against each other.

Then all of a sudden someone tackled me! Though it surprised me, I stayed in my pose while The Munch snuggled up on my stomach yet again. This time her body taking up more more space than my recollections – her legs dangling down to my knees. She cuddled against me as her arms draped around my ribs to hug me tighter. All I could think was “this kid is fucking rad and I love her so much.”