June 26, 2008

The Morning from H E Double Hockey Sticks

This morning was Lil C’s second tumbling class.  I don’t know why they schedule little kid classes at the crack of dawn, but they always do.  I figured we could all deal with it one day a week.  I figured wrong.

Big I whined and complained about having to get up.  Lil C woke up screaming like there was a demon being exorcised from her body.  Because I wanted this to be the day where she decided tumbling class was fun instead of Mommy’s new innovative way to torture her, I went into her room being the Mom I’ve always wanted to be.

"Good Morning Sunshine," I said with a big grin on my face.

"Not a good morning," Lil C spat back at me. 


She then pulled ridiculous fleece clothing from her drawers while I sat on her bed and gently suggested she wear the outfit I picked out for her. "I will not freak out. I will not freak out. I will not freak out" was my mantra. 

"Do you need a hug this morning to squeeze out the ‘grumpies’?"

"Yes," she said.  So I hugged her and then quickly dressed her before she realized I wasn’t letting her dress like it was December.  She refused a pony in her hair so I figured we’d just work with the whole wild woman, Linda Blair theme she had going on and deal.  Who needs nice combed hair to go tumbling anyway, right?

We arrived at tumbling and I was shocked that Lil C allowed me to take her shoes off.  Last week, that was a 15 minute struggle.  I thought this was going to work. 

Wrong again.

The other little ones went right in and started jumping around.  Lil C’s teacher took her hand and we shut the door behind her.  Two seconds later she was at the door, staring out at me longingly and trying to open the door herself.  The other kids may be learning tumbling, but my daughter is learning MacGuyver like door opening skills, because in only a few minutes, she was climbing onto my lap. 

She spent the rest of the class refusing to go back in, while one of the other Mom’s talked me to like I was a first-timer.  She’s one of those Mom’s, the kind that I’m not. 

At the end of class, the teacher came out and told Lil C she could go in and play with Mommy on the mats.  Lil C put her shoes on and said, "No, I’m going home."

I told Big I to go in there and show her little sister how it was done.  The teacher told her to go in too.  Always the good sport, Big I went in and stood at one end of the mat as the other two-year olds were doing perfect forward rolls. And then, she did what can only be described as violently throwing her forehead at the mat and almost paralyzing herself.  The teacher decided Big I needed some serious help, so she went in and taught my 7-year old how to do a proper forward roll. 

Meanwhile, Lil C held my hand and tried to lead me to the door. 

When Big I came out of her quick tumbling lesson with the toddlers, she said, "Mommy, this just isn’t my thing."

Fabulous mornings like this are not going to help me become that Mom. To be completely honest, I’m not sure I’m capable of being that Mom anyway.  It’s just not my thing.

The Honeymoon from Hell post will be continued later today or tomorrow morning.  Are you sensing a theme for this week? 

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