As many of you know by now, I am a woman of extremes. One day I’m letting it go, and the next, today, I’m reining it in. What is up with my karma, Gorgeouses? I have some major, major karma to deal with. I mean, obviously, it could be worse — like, Oedipus (dude had some bad Karma), Anne Boleyn or George Costanza…. But this is definitely a karmic situation. And I’m not talking this Situation, for the record….

Looove. Seriously. Not in a Clive Owen kind of way.

I just struggle. I really struggle with the day-to-day stuff. My problem is that I just want to do whatever I want. Period. I struggle between my intense desire to do whatever I want and my severe desire to live an ideal life. I get completely overwhelmed by the idea that there may be a balance between these two extremes — freedom and restriction — but, I know, there is freedom in restriction, and that there is so, so much restriction in, erm, gluttony….

Woahh, this is getting to heady for us.

Take my puppy Betty White, for example. She knows exactly what she wants or needs to do. She’s perfect at it if you think about it — running in the yard, eating when she’s hungry, attacking me with kisses while I’m driving…. She’s definitely one of my idols when it comes to my karmic situation. Not this Situation, for the record….

Looove. Seriously. Not in a Javier Bardem kind of way.

Before we continue our very important conversation here, can we talk about Mr. Bardem’s serious hotness in Eat, Pray, Love for a second? Omigosh, SWOON. Hold on a sec, here….

Paaaaaaauuuuuse………

Sure, I’m one lucky woman. Not as lucky as Julia Roberts, who got to spoon Javier Bardem….

But she did it. Or, her character, Elizabeth Gilbert did it, or at least wrote the book about it. Elizabeth Gilbert — the same woman who reminds me that no woman, none of us, really knows what she’s doing these days. We have oodles of choices, and, having no oodles-of-choices predecessors, we struggle with what to do with these oodles. Here, let her say it herself….

No wonder, amid a sea of Eat, Pray, Love haters (I know you’re out there), I love Elizabeth Gilbert. She and I are, like, the same person: neurotic and struggling among the extremes of pleasure, restriction and relationships, and we are a wee bit obsessed with yoga, writing and eating. Fast forward to the last few minutes of the video….

Oh, heady again.

…When all I meant to write about was Betty White at the dinner table….

(Underbite.) She’s out of control!

(Tongue. Also chili.)

And he! He stole my favourite lip gloss!

(Bottom-teeth gap.)

And this. Between me and my macbook….

(Withkerth.) — You have to say that one out loud to understand it.

Out of control. Or, in Canadian speak, OOT of control. I’m starting to talk like that, Gorgeouses. For real life, eh? (“For real life” is actually Monkey speak for “For real” — FYI.)

Sighh. Anyway, I think I’m going on a diet (ish). And I’m doing Ashtanga yoga again — an hour or so every day but Saturdays and moon days.  Because it’s one or the other for me. I just feel like there’s freedom in it. In not having to choose all the time…. Dammit.

One day I’ll write the book on my karmic roller-coaster journey among extremes. And I’ll call it Dogs at the Dinner Table. It has a ring to it, right? On the cover, a picture of me and Betty White in downward-facing dog pose…. You can read it on your Kobos (my latest obsession. see twitter).

I had an aha moment as I was walking down the hallway at work the other day on a little scenic route past Flare Magazine‘s steamers, stylists and clothing racks — the novelty of which remains untarnished, especially because I’m a huge fan of MTV’s….

On the recommendation of Caroline Dupont and Oprah, I’ve been reading Geneen Roth‘s bestselling book Women, Food and God: an Unexpected Path to Almost Everything.

The book came so highly recommended that I just had to make sense of it. And I’ve been working really hard to apply the great lessons in this book to my life; but, in the meantime, I’ve been eating when I’m not hungry and, mostly, the wrong foods. It made sense to me that one’s relationship with food could be, as the subtitle of the book says, “An Unexpected Path to Almost Everything,” but only theoretically. I couldn’t quite pin down how it could apply to me practically.

But here’s the thing. You know how I’ve been waking up 2 hours early every day to do my rigorous Ashtanga yoga practice — sweating it out on the mat and pacifying the Rascal, pushing couches out of my face while in shoulderstand (seriously), or tearing growling, screaming cats and dog away from each other while trying to breathe deep, long ujayii breaths in forward bend? Well, you know, some things just don’t work. As much as I wanted to do everything right, to practice real, authentic yoga every single morning except Saturdays and “moon days”, it just wasn’t feasible. Waking myself up every morning to basically restrict myself for 2 hours was doing harm. And it was causing me to lose control in other areas. I was eating more. Running to Starbucks a sweaty mess, straight from the hot studio. Can I please have a grande soy no-water tazo chai? *glargh*

It was the food, that dang chai addiction, that showed me what’s really going on with me. A sweet, cinnamony looking glass….

Walking down that long hallway past the pretty people and posters and amazing clothes, I realized: The more I restrict myself the more out of control my diet gets.

So the yoga was getting too hard. Too forced. Everything, motherhood, was getting too hard. Too forced. And the old ways were coming back: the TIRED, the chai lattes, the cookies…the cookies.

Then I realized, just as I passed the fashion rack — AHA! The “doorway” that Geneen Roth talks about isn’t that one eating meltdown. No. It’s the patterns. The fall after fall after fall off the wagon. When do they happen? What’s going on when I fall?

When I eat poorly — really poorly — it MEANS I’M RESTRICTING MYSELF TOO MUCH. It means it’s time for a break. Time to crawl back into my shell and give myself permission to rest.

REST.

So, instead of trapping myself on the mat for two hours first thing in the morning, I’m waking up a little later and going for a walk with Betty White. I’m taking the kids for hikes, which are usually colossal epic FAILS (for another blog post), but beautiful….

I’m going to the yoga studio (two yoga studios — one for rigor and one for…rest) to practice when I can, and fitting fun yoga into some afternoons. It’s healthier for my kids to see me actually enjoying this healthy passion of mine, rather than struggling to get through it.

My eating is the key. The “doorway.” It tells me when I fall into those patterns of restriction, when I’m being too hard on myself, when I need to take a break, sit back, and enjoy life…. Enjoy life. #Concept.

So, as Roth recommends (read it!), I’m going back to my body, becoming aware of my breath and giving myself permission to chill. Oh, man, PERMISSION. Allowing Permission herself to melt over me like a like warm glinting maple syrup….. Mmmmm, syrup…. I don’t have to do anything. Anything. I don’t even have to please you right now….

But, love….

Tonight I made a lentil soup and this fabulous green bean dish (recipe to come). I tasted everything, and I felt something warm and bright and ray-like in my belly — happiness?

Love!

xo Haley-O

Betty White insisted I show you all her new haircut. So, here….

Underbite….

Tell her she looks CUTE. She loves it. Seriously? I can’t deal. I have officially fallen HARD for this little thing. Love love love.

Other than loving, bathing, walking and feeding ALL my animals, I’ve been keeping busy lately.

Still with the yoga…. This week my practice has mysteriously taught me not to form “stories.”

We do that, you know? We think of someone, and immediately our minds create a story around him or her. Like, you think of so-and-so and the scandal, or so-and-so and what she said to you that one time when she was in a hurry, or that email so-and-so didn’t send you. All stories.

Here’s a little yoga practice idea for you (I’ll save you the 1.5 hours daily on the mat…for now): screw the stories. Or simply recognize them for a start…. Because, ever notice how your impressions of people change in a heartbeat? One minute you loathe someone, and the next they send you a thoughtful tweet or two, and you love them. It’s all stories. Stories stories stories. Just notice them. It’s pretty liberating to let the story-telling go, or at least to see it for what it is and let people (and things, anything) be.

Still with the social-life organizing…. Yesterday, I had the Monkey’s AND the Rascal’s friends over for dinner. What was I THINKING?

This, of course, after a long day of work. And I’ve been a writing MACHINE this week. (Check my latest “In the news” blog posts on the fan page.) I even actually made the kids a fancy tahini salad dressing, which they loved! They were asking for more BROCCOLI! One of these days I’ll update the kitch with new recipes…. Promise.

Still doing fun stuff with the Monkey and it’sGRANDMA…. It’sgrandma, Monkey and I went to a Mark’s fashion show today. Honestly? Marks doesn’t pay me to say any of this. They’ve simply shown me their stuff and not asked a thing of me. I’ve featured them on Today’s Parent, and I wear a ton of their clothes because…I love them! The clothes are stylish, comfortable and they actually look good on ME. I lived in Lululemons for years until I discovered Mark’s (recently). So, I’m happy to share their awesomeness with you.

Mark’s is also awesome because they let it’sgrandma AND the Monkey join me at their big fall fashion show event today, and they treated the Monkey like gold….

The fashion show MC even said she was “the star of the show”! Which she loved…. More pics!

Loved this outfit (and the model loved the Monkey)! I’ve asked them to make these boots in SYNTHETIC vegan fabric; we’ll see what they come up with (heh). They DO have fab down-free winter vests and cotton (not wool) hats, mits, scarves and cardis! Yay!

PJs! And gigantic teddy bear….

UNDIES UNDIES UNDIES! The best part of the show. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Yes, hot dudes in UNDIES. Check. IT!

Ohhh, yeaaahhh. Everyone was smiling.

I accidentally squirted the gorj sandy-blond-haired guy (below) IN THE FACE with a water gun later on in the show. *Cough.* I didn’t mean to, but….

…but he was SO HOT…! And he was wearing goggles — which is open invitation for water in the face, no? Even though we were simply asked to test the water resistance of the jacket he was wearing. Oops….

In case you were wondering, when the show was over, the Monkey absolutely did her little thing on the catwalk….

Oy!

Okay, off to bed. I have 6am yoga practice at the studio tomorrow. Wish me luck! No stories, ‘kay?

Love!

xo Haley-O

Why? WHY do kids love pressing buttons?

I’m not talking door or elevator buttons — although they love them, too — I’m talking my buttons. Why do my kids love pressing my buttons? Like, the hottest buttons they can find? “Let’s piss Mama off” might as well be their mantra lately.

Now that I have to scramble the Monkey off to (FULL-DAY) camp early in the morning, my mornings have become chaos — a cacophony of button pressing by both her and her brother.

Is it that entertaining for them to watch me writhe? Or is it just plain fun to be obnoxious, like, for obnoxious’ sake? Have I forgotten the joy of obnoxiousness? Obnoxion! (OED people: “Obnoxion” should definitely be a word, FYI.)

Maybe I should just try to be obnoxious with them, then? As in “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.” Just let it all out and be obnoxious. Yes! I’ll just press their buttons…. Mwahaha! Theirs. I will! I will do it! I will press their buttons! My new mantra: “Let’s piss off the children! Mwahaha!” I can hear it now (can you hear it now?): “Mamaaaa! NOOOOO! NooooOOOooo! Mama! Stoooop it!” And then he’ll cry. The Rascal will cry. Because that’s what he does. All the time. But that’s another blog post.

I’ll keep you posted. On Operation Obnoxion. I probably won’t do it. But, a mother can dream. A mother can vent. On her blog….

To calm my nerves and get healthy and in shape, I’ve been doing Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga every morning. A key element of the practice is drishti, or gazing. The problem is, when I practice drishti, I’m gazing at, erm, this….

When I go to lie down at the end of my rigorous practice in the all-important savasana pose, I see this if I dare open my eyes….

Betty White! Gahh. That black mass on the bottom would be my bosom, fyi. And never mind cleaning my mat at the end of a sweaty session because….

It’s okay, though, because Minden does it anyway….

Anyway, before Betty White eats the latest issue of Today’s Parent….

I have to show you a little something-something on the inside….

Closer….

Tada! ME! I’m the third name down in the TODAYSPARENT.COM section. Woohoo! And those are my peeps! My beautiful, awesome, beyond-nice (I love that) colleagues. Love love love. So, pick up your issue of Today’s Parent IN STANDS FRIDAY!

Love!

xo Haley-O

I’m numbing out in front of America’s Next Top Model, but it’s hard. Tomorrow (Thursday) is the big day. I’m finally getting this front tooth extracted. I’ll eventually have a beautiful permanent tooth in there. For the next year, though, I’ll be wearing a fancy denture. It was either that, or this (Amy Winehouse):

Or this (Paris Hilton):

Or this (Johnny Depp):

This (Jim Carrey, who took his bonding off and exposed his *chipped* tooth for Dumb and Dumber — totally worth it):

Or this (ED HELMS, who removed his permanent implant for Hangover — also totally worth it):

Or this (Demi Moore, BRAVELY posting her fabulous toothlessness on twitter):

Or this (Dakota Fanning — I should be that confident toothless):

Or this (Mike Tyson — my dentist promised he’ll do a better job than this):

Sighhh. It could be worse. I’ll be fine. It’s just a tooth. I’ll rock this denture…. I’m sure there are more, but I couldn’t make it to thirteen celebrities. My stomach’s turning. Time to change the subject….

In other news, I had my makeover….

My new Mysore Ashtanga yoga teacher swears I’ll be rid of that belly in no time with regular practice. Why didn’t I think of Ashtanga before? Watch the pounds melt away — I’m TELLING YOU. I’ve never sweat so much. And I’ve never ached so much! More later. Nervous Nelly over here.

As I was saying, yesterday, Mark’s, treated me like a total princess. It was exactly what the dentist ordered…. I didn’t have time to get my hair and makeup done, but, although stylist Afiya Francisco had her work cut out for her, I did get myself some fabulous new sunglasses, RED purse, frilly white top, and ACTUAL PANTS — I was shocked and elated that the best pants for me were SLIM FIT. After all that, I got my photos taken by the PHOTOJUNKIE himself. Love! It was a good day. (There are more pics on the FAN PAGE — check it, and join us!)

Today, I got my facial at Pure and Simple, and a really GREAT eyebrow job.

You’d think with all this pampering, I’d be ready for tomorrow, but I’m not.

I washed a bunch of lettuce, but it’ll probably rot before I get my appetite back. As soon as America’s Next Top Model‘s over, I’m going to make a big batch of my swamp smoothie. I’ve gotta eat SO healthily for optimal bone growage — the stronger the bone, the faster the process, the sooner I can get a permanent implant put in.

As my boyfriend Tim Gunn would say, MAKE IT WORK. I’m gonna MAKE IT WORK. I’m going to take some Rescue Remedy, do my yoga, relax, heal, and make it work. Watch out, Gorgeouses, here I come! Errrrm…. Heh. Okay. Off I go…. Good bye, Tooth. Enter courage. Scared.

Think of me at 3:30….

Love….

xo Haley-O