Bikram Yoga, Day 6

I had originally intended to go to the late class and try to finish pictures of my postures afterward, but with everything I had to do today, decided the early class would be better.

For once, I planned ahead. Too bad it was because I'd procrastinated so many other things that I was forced to.

I'm still feeling change in my yoga poses with every class. They may be miniscule, but for me it's nice to be able to feel progress--especially since I never seemed to be able to make progress in physical therapy (with Kaiser anyway).

The only downside is that now I'm debating whether I should take pictures in my poses as I can do them now, or whether I should go back to where I was. I'll figure it out on another day when I have more time.

I spent the day scrambling and wrapping presents. My husband went up to the mountain to play in the snow.

Our Christmas eve tradition as a couple is FABULOUS. His best friend is French, and I will refer to him as "G" for this. G and his wife put on the most incredible dinner. Usually it is just their family that is invited--and us. I totally married in to an awesome invitation on that one.

Usually the festivities start around 6:00, we socialize for a bit, and then around 7:00 we start in the Christmas-decorated living room with a Champagne toast, complete with some kind of delicacy (imported cheese, truffles--the mushroom kind, olives, and oysters have been a few). Then we meander into the dining room where we have multiple courses up to the main course of lamb. This is followed by (forgive my atrocious French spelling if I mangle it) True Normand, a few more courses, and then at midnight we return to the living room, and open presents. After presents we go back to the dining room, have the Bouche Noel (Yule log) dessert, and then a coffee course.

In all, about a 10 course meal.

Did I mention that nearly every course has a wine specially chosen to match it? Not that my husband or I drink, but on occasion we have sampled them. I, unfortunately, do not have a sophisticated enough palette to appreciate it and usually just refuse now, insisting that they not waste any on me and let someone who will enjoy it have it instead. G still tries, every year, saying, "You just don't like wine because you haven't found one you like yet."

The True Normand is a sorbet and apple brandy. This I happily partake of, even though I'm still teased because I once referred to it as the "stomach bomb."

In my defense, when I asked what it was the first year, it was explained to me that the combination of these specific ingredients has an effect on your digestion that essentially clears room in your stomach so you can keep eating, even though you were full moments before. I SWEAR that G said to me that first year (in his French accent), "Eez like a bome een your stomach." (It's like a bomb in your stomach.) Whether or not he said that, it's what I remember, so the next year, I asked if we were having the stomach bomb and no one knew what I was talking about.

Now they all know and tease me.

Anyway, this is our tradition for Christmas eve--usually we get home about 2:00am, sleep for a few hours, then leave the house by 8:00am to get to my dad's.

This year was different.

G's daughter, who is only 6, has been in the hospital for two weeks, much of it in intensive care. The doctors aren't completely sure what's wrong (and in the interests of their privacy, I won't go into the few details I do know), but she hasn't been able to keep her fever down for more than 48 hours so they won't release her yet.

We (my husband and I) first found out a few days after she was initially admitted. We were told that Christmas eve would be cancelled. The only (selfish) good thing out of this is that it would mean we could sleep before our Christmas day traditions (three parties to go to and about 120 miles of driving).

We found out that the hospital granted G's daughter a 7-hour leave for the Christmas eve celebrations, which they bumped to late afternoon instead of evening.

It was quieter and more subdued. G's daughter stayed in their bedroom on the bed, having stories read to her by her uncle, and we went in, one at a time, to say hello and let her open presents.

Poor kid was weak and in pain. She hurt too much to stay for the celebrations, so G's wife and brother-in-law took her back to the hospital after only a couple of hours.

We still had the rest of the party with G, his parents, and his wife's dad. My daughter and G's son (they're only 4 months apart) had fun playing together.

G came up to me at one point, frantic. "Do you know what the bows are?" Apparently he got a call from his wife at the hospital. I'd given their daughter a frame with her name in it, which had a whole bunch of hair bows hanging from it. She liked it and was demanding it be brought to her at the hospital.

I'd initially felt a little bad because this year our budget forced us to do a number of homemade gifts, but at least one of them was a hit. Probably the most important one, considering how much not fun Christmas in the hospital is for a kid.

We ONLY had a six-course meal this year (no True Normand), and as I was once again refusing the wine on grounds that it shouldn't be wasted, G responded, "Education is never wasted," I decided I would try a little bit.

And I finally found one that I LIKED. REALLY liked. I probably won't ever have it again since it was a 1989 Something or other imported from France, but I enjoyed what little bit I did have. I would probably have consumed quite a bit more, but since I was driving home (my husband doesn't do well with a standard transmission), and it's been so long since I've had alcohol, and I screwed up the tags on my car, I didn't want to get pulled over and then face DUI charges. I'm also so overly paranoid that in all I probably had half a glass of wine and stopped drinking it about three hours before leaving.

We finally left at about 10:30, much earlier than normal. Dad had scheduled his Christmas breakfast to a brunch for us, but it was still nice to know we'd actually get some sleep this year.