Believe it or not, there once was a time in my life when I could do a yoga pose called “the scorpion” that involved doing a handstand (yes, a handstand) while touching my toes to the top of my head. Now, I'm lucky if I can touch my fingers to my toes while standing upright. I used to attend Ashtanga yoga classes about five days a week, and even taught some. Now, I'm lucky if I make it to a class once every two weeks. This is all part of motherhood, professionalism, responsibility. Boring, right?

I'm not sure. My body has done some amazing things in the last couple of years. For one, I created a human being and gave birth to a tiny person. That was pretty cool. Now, I carry a thirty pound child for about a quarter of the day. I also sit at a computer a few hours a day, while trying to be mindful of my posture. I use my body to cook my family dinner, bathe, dress and otherwise care for my child, care for my home, walk in the woods, show my family affection. I do what I can to love and respect my physical form, including eating well when not subsisting on goldfish and juice boxes, sleeping every now and then, taking a walk occasionally, and standing upright.

I'll admit, I take beginning yoga classes and stretch at home in the evenings so I can avoid watching the 18-year-olds touch their toes to the back of their heads. Still, I don't feel as much resentment or jealousy as I might. After all, my body is strong and I'm grateful for the work it does. I mostly accept that there are different kinds of balance for different times in life. Right now, if I insisted on trying to do the scorpion, I probably wouldn't be able to lift my toddler for a week, or I'd experience a permanent head injury. Hopefully, as my child becomes less dependent and her father more involved, I'll be able to work my way back up to a fancy inversion or two, but, if not, I'm mostly okay with that.