“While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about.”
—Angela Schwindt
Once I had a baby, I became one of those people with the best intentions for my yoga practice. Even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to walk to the yoga studio for those hour-long classes anymore, I figured I would work it out somehow, that I would find a way to keep my practice alive.
Like almost every parent I know, I got a shock when the little one finally arrived.
I tried attending baby yoga classes, but I spent the entire time feeding her. No time for my personal practice there. When she was sleeping, I was too exhausted to leave the couch, let alone give my practice the attention it deserved.
For a while, I mourned the loss of those studio classes. I missed the guided sequences, the community, the dedicated space just for practice. Once we settled into a little routine, though, I stopped fighting my ache for the yoga studio I’d left behind.
Discovering a New Way to Practice
In a way, I stumbled upon this new way of practicing out of necessity. I started meditating with my daughter on my lap. These were short sessions, nothing fancy. Just breath and presence.
As she grew older, we began practicing yoga postures together. We would mimic the trees we saw on our walks or the animals we’d watched at the zoo. I would practice mindfulness while swinging her at the playground, bringing awareness to the present moment and practicing gratitude for these precious days.
Somewhere in all of this, something shifted. My yoga practice became more consistent than it had ever been—not because I was getting to the studio or following hour-long sequences, but because I was already there with my daughter, breathing, moving, and being present together.
Somewhere in all of this, something shifted. My yoga practice became more consistent than it had ever been—not because I was getting to the studio or following hour-long sequences, but because I was already there with my daughter, breathing, moving, and being present together.
So, if you’re struggling to maintain your practice, I want to share something that might sound counterintuitive: Practicing and teaching yoga to the children in your life, whether they’re your own kids, nieces and nephews, students, or neighborhood children, might be the key to deepening your own practice.
Easy Practices to Teach & Try
Here’s how to turn everyday moments into opportunities for yoga, without adding a single thing to your schedule. I encourage you to try one or more of these, and then adjust them to meet your own needs.
1. Morning Wake-Up Stretches in Bed
Before your feet hit the floor, before the day begins, there’s a window for practice. Instead of jumping straight into the morning rush, take two minutes to stretch in bed with your child. Extend your arms overhead. Hug your knees to your chest. Twist gently side to side.
Make it an invitation rather than an instruction: “Want to stretch with me?” Most kids will naturally join in, and you’re teaching them that movement and breath can be the first choice of the day.
Make it an invitation rather than an instruction: “Want to stretch with me?” Most kids will naturally join in, especially if it means a few extra minutes of connection before the day demands their attention elsewhere.
You’re teaching them that movement and breath can be the first choice of the day. You’re giving yourself those moments too. No mat, special outfit, or commute to the studio required.
Want to make this morning ritual even more powerful? Add an element of gratitude. After a few gentle stretches, share one thing you’re grateful for or one positive thought about the day ahead. “I’m grateful for this cozy bed and this time with you.”
Keep it simple. Kids often mirror this practice back, starting their day with appreciation rather than rushing straight into demands and tasks.
2. Mindful Moments While Waiting
Waiting is everywhere in life with children. Bus stops. Doctors’ offices. School pick-up lines. Instead of filling these moments with phones or mental to-do lists, turn them into opportunities for presence.
When my daughter and I wait for the bus together, we’ve started really noticing what’s around us. The snow falling in winter. The leaves changing color in fall. Rain pitter-pattering on the pavement. The birds chirping in the trees nearby.
“What do you hear right now?” becomes our game. Or “What’s different today than yesterday?”
This practice of tuning in to the present moment, of noticing what’s actually here rather than rushing ahead to what’s next, is mindfulness in its purest form. The children learn to see the world with fresh eyes, and so do you.
3. Deep Breathing Throughout the Day
You can practice conscious breathing anywhere—before a transition at home, in the car before walking into an appointment, standing in line at the post office, sitting in the doctor’s waiting room, walking from the car to the grocery store entrance.
Make it simple. Breathe in for four counts, out for four counts. That’s it. No fancy techniques needed. Just intentional breath shared together. The breathing practice I thought I was teaching my daughter? She was internalizing it, making it her own, and reflecting it back to me when I needed it most.
The more you practice in small moments throughout the day, the more natural it becomes—for both of you.
A few times when I’ve been in a mental tailspin about something, she’s put her hands on both my shoulders and said, “You’ve got this, Mom. Take a deep breath.”
The more you practice in small moments throughout the day, the more natural it becomes—for both of you.
4. The “Drop and Roll” Game
This is one of my favorite practices for shifting energy quickly! Anytime you need to change the mood, shift your mindset, or get a new perspective, drop into a yoga pose.
Kids getting restless in the grocery store? “Drop and roll into downward dog right here!” (Yes, right there by the cereal aisle.)
Feeling stuck on a problem at home? “Let’s do tree pose and see if we can think differently while we balance.”
Energy getting chaotic before dinner? “Everybody drop into child’s pose for ten breaths.”
The beauty is that it works anywhere. In the park when emotions are running high. In your living room when everyone needs a reset. Even in the dentist office waiting room when nerves need settling. Any moment can become a practice moment.
Movement shifts everything. It changes your physical state, which changes your mental state. The children learn this through play, and so do you. Sometimes the fastest way back to center is moving your body in a new way.
Movement shifts everything. It changes your physical state, which changes your mental state. The children learn this through play, and so do you. Sometimes the fastest way back to center is moving your body in a new way.
5. Bedtime Meditation
If you’ve ever tried to meditate while children are awake and active in your home, you know it’s nearly impossible. But bedtime? That’s your window.
After stories and tucking in, try a simple body scan or visualization with them. “Close your eyes and imagine you’re a starfish floating in warm water. Feel your arms get heavy. Your legs get soft.”
By guiding them through relaxation, something happens to your own nervous system. It settles. It softens. Your breath slows. Your shoulders drop. Your mind, which has been running all day, finally gets permission to rest.
This thing you’re already doing every night becomes your meditation practice.
6. Travel Days and Hotel Room Yoga
Travel with children often means confined spaces and restless energy. As it turns out, these are ideal conditions for yoga. A hotel room becomes a studio. The wait at the airport gate becomes an opportunity for seated twists and neck rolls. The backseat of the car during a rest stop becomes a place for shoulder shrugs and gentle stretches.
When you reframe “practice” as something that can happen anywhere, you stop waiting for perfect conditions that rarely come.
Hotel rooms have become unexpected practice spaces for us. We make it playful (animal poses are favorites), but my body still gets the stretch it needs. My breath still deepens. My mind still settles. When you reframe “practice” as something that can happen anywhere, you stop waiting for perfect conditions that rarely come.
7. Yoga Through Acts of Service
The mat is just one place yoga lives. It also lives in how we show up in the world and care for others. There are countless opportunities to weave service into your life with children. Volunteering at a food bank. Helping an elderly neighbor with yard work. Making cards for people in nursing homes. Participating in a community clean-up day.
For ten years, my family has hosted a pajama drive in our town, collecting new pajamas and delivering them to children at a less fortunate city school. This practice of karma yoga—selfless service—has become one of the most meaningful parts of our yoga practice together.
When children see you modeling a yoga lifestyle that extends beyond poses and breath to include compassion, generosity, and showing up for others, they learn that yoga is a way of being, not just a thing you “do.”
When children see you modeling a yoga lifestyle that extends beyond poses and breath to include compassion, generosity, and showing up for others, they learn that yoga is a way of being, not just a thing you “do.”
And you? You’re practicing too. Not on a mat, but in the world, where it matters most.
The Practice That Was Always There
What children really need from us isn’t perfection in our practice. They need our presence. And in teaching them simple practices for presence, whether through breath, movement, or mindfulness, you create your own practice without needing to be anywhere other than where you already are.
My practice now looks different from the way it did before I became a parent. It’s changed and adapted through the years as my daughter has grown. But it’s stayed alive, built into our days together in ways I never could have imagined back when I thought “real” practice only happened in a studio. The practice is in the slow breaths we take together. In the gratitude we share during morning stretches. In our mindful moments waiting for the bus. In the service projects we take on as a family. In the body scans that help her settle into sleep.
The practice was never supposed to be separate from life. It was always meant to be woven through it. And children, with their natural presence and their ability to find joy in the simplest moments, are some of our best teachers for remembering that.
