I was going to make a big speech about how I'm tired of my previous blog posts, but by the time I figure out a way to say that I could have written 10 new ones, so here's something new…

I am a tree.

At least I pose as one. Limber, silent, my leaves gently sweeping with each passing summer breeze. And, posing as a tree keeps me from screaming at my kids.

For days—months, really—they have been at each other's throats. They scream and then I scream to stop them from screaming. It's a vicious cycle.

Until today, that is. For I am a tree.

It all started yesterday morning when my yoga instructor said she practices a tree pose to relieve stress. I took it a step further. I used it to curb my temper.

Yes, a tree.

I can see it now. Isabella will lunge at Ava, who just stole something of hers, bumped into her or whatever. Ava would then cry out, retaliate and I'd blow my top. "STOP IT NOW!" But this time I would be silent; standing in a tree pose on one leg with the other foot bent and resting on the straight leg. I'll be centered. Balanced. In control.

How could I possibly raise my voice when I'm trying not to fall? It's karmic therapy.

I'm a tree.

But then what?

How long am I supposed to stay like this? I was hoping the situation would actually present itself so that I'd have some truth to draw from, but I'm slightly alarmed at my lack of planning. I think it's life trying to tell me something. 

You will always be surprised. Even if you are a tree.

Fine. But in my mind I'll hold the pose until one of the kids, or possibly the cat, knocks me down. The girls will go back to their bickering, but I won't yell. I'll tell them they have until the count of three to calm down or I'll make them do a tree pose. I hope they choose to hold their own tree pose, which could be good for a few giggles, and somehow they might forget about their fight. I'll just be proud to have kept my composure. For like a tree, I believe I can bend. At least until I fall over. Laughing.