Damn you, Cosmic Justice League
Once upon a time there was a little girl who was wonderfully naive and unknowingly happy in her ignorant bliss (because how can you know you’re happy about not knowing things you don’t know yet?). Then that little girl grew up and had her own little girl and began learning how much she really didn’t know ever. And she began to think about conversations she’d had as a little girl with her parents and how there must be some sort of omniscient and all-knowing cosmic justice league somewhere laughing their faces off at her now.
Little girl: If there’s Mother’s Day, then why isn’t there a Kid’s Day?
Parents in unison: Because every day is Kid’s Day.
Little girl: But I don’t get presents everyday. No fair.
*facewall*
Today we tried out a new music class, which consisted of about 8 other parents/babies (babies ranged in age from 10-16.5 months). T spent probably 35 minutes of the 40 minute session running the perimeter of the circle, dancing in the middle of the circle, visiting all the other kids, trying out other peoples’ laps, playing with the group leader's demonstration doll, and dashing to the door to play with the doorknob. The 5 minutes she was with me was because I was holding her as we whoosed through the air to music. I know I’m suppose to nurture her little self and help direct her natural tendancies blah blah, but, OMG, I have to get this out:
There are kids who will just sit still for 10’s of minutes at a time?!?!
I don’t know what to do with this information.
I found myself staring in wonderment at all the other kids sitting quietly in their mom’s/grandmother’s laps. And then wondering why the hell my kid won’t sit still. And then starting to be alarmed while words like “ADHD” began to zip through my head. And then I felt terrible for thinking those things instead of being proud that T is so daring and fearless and naturally curious, which led to doubting my parenting abilities, which led to fears about having an out-of-control and dysfunctional kid who will never be able to have a happy and well-adjusted life. And all the while we’re singing “Hickory Dickory Dock” and shaking plastic egg maracas. I felt like I was having some silent existential crisis.
Then I went home, fed T, read her stories, put her down for her nap, took one look at the dirty dishes on the kitchen counter and the food refuse from lunch splattered on the floor (and wall), went straight to the cupboard and got a container of dark chocolate peanut butter cups, walked past the dirty bathrooms and the buzzing dryer, and plugged myself into my computer where I’m now listening to a stupid Katy Perry song on repeat (WTH?!) and going slowly and quietly insane. Jesus.
P.S. So apparently when under duress, I eat peanut butter cups and I watch TED. Here's a honest and humorous look at the reality of parenting, taboos and all.
Little girl: If there’s Mother’s Day, then why isn’t there a Kid’s Day?
Parents in unison: Because every day is Kid’s Day.
Little girl: But I don’t get presents everyday. No fair.
*facewall*
Today we tried out a new music class, which consisted of about 8 other parents/babies (babies ranged in age from 10-16.5 months). T spent probably 35 minutes of the 40 minute session running the perimeter of the circle, dancing in the middle of the circle, visiting all the other kids, trying out other peoples’ laps, playing with the group leader's demonstration doll, and dashing to the door to play with the doorknob. The 5 minutes she was with me was because I was holding her as we whoosed through the air to music. I know I’m suppose to nurture her little self and help direct her natural tendancies blah blah, but, OMG, I have to get this out:
There are kids who will just sit still for 10’s of minutes at a time?!?!
I don’t know what to do with this information.
I found myself staring in wonderment at all the other kids sitting quietly in their mom’s/grandmother’s laps. And then wondering why the hell my kid won’t sit still. And then starting to be alarmed while words like “ADHD” began to zip through my head. And then I felt terrible for thinking those things instead of being proud that T is so daring and fearless and naturally curious, which led to doubting my parenting abilities, which led to fears about having an out-of-control and dysfunctional kid who will never be able to have a happy and well-adjusted life. And all the while we’re singing “Hickory Dickory Dock” and shaking plastic egg maracas. I felt like I was having some silent existential crisis.
Then I went home, fed T, read her stories, put her down for her nap, took one look at the dirty dishes on the kitchen counter and the food refuse from lunch splattered on the floor (and wall), went straight to the cupboard and got a container of dark chocolate peanut butter cups, walked past the dirty bathrooms and the buzzing dryer, and plugged myself into my computer where I’m now listening to a stupid Katy Perry song on repeat (WTH?!) and going slowly and quietly insane. Jesus.
P.S. So apparently when under duress, I eat peanut butter cups and I watch TED. Here's a honest and humorous look at the reality of parenting, taboos and all.