Mommy and Me Yoga Fundraiser

It’s a 15-minute drive north on I-95. My 21-month-old son Taber notices every tow truck and semi along the way.

“Where are we going Taber?” I ask interrupting his traffic reverie.

“Baby, Mama, Woga,” my son states. Then he puts his hands together in prayer pose. “Ommmm,” he chants.

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