I did something I never thought I would do. In fact, I actually made fun of the parents who did this. I joined a parent /child gym class....with Emma.
The coupon came in the mail for a free trial class, so I thought "what the hell", right? Its not like I have anything better to do.
Most people that know me casually may think that I am a very social person. I like to organize get togethers, I love to throw parties, and I am lucky enough to say that I have a wide range of very good friends...most of which I have known for a very long time..with the exception of a handful. That is because, I am somewhat socially awkward. I do not like meeting new people, I do not like being thrown in a large group of strangers and expected to drum up idle chit chat. Period.
Couple that with the fact that I think organized "parent" groups are plain old stupid. Attending a class is without a doubt a big step in my new found SAHM-dom.
A couple of days before the class, Em and I went to Marshalls to pick her up some appropriate workout wear. I was pleased to find two Adidas sweatsuits. One black with white piping, the other pink with white piping. Obviously, I chose the black as it was much easier to match with my 45 black pairs of sweatpants and 37 white t-shirts.
Coincidentally, the gym class began on the first day of school for the older girls. I would bring them to school, and head on my way. (I wont lie, while in the school yard I did receive some "ribbing" about Emma and my matching gym outfits. However, I knew we looked crispy)
(CRISPY: adjective; definition: neat,clean,trim,fashionable,with it,very good-looking)
I arrived at the class promptly at 9:10. The class was to begin at 9:15. I looked around and quickly began sizing up the other parents and children. I should mention that I bumped Emma up into the class above her age group as I tend (or at least in my own head believe) to breed athletic overachievers.
First off, Emma and I were clearly the best dressed....or at least the most appropriately dressed...for the occasion. There were babies in there with sundresses on for Christ sake.
I mean, seriously, how can these parental units expect there children to outrun, jump and flip anyone in a sundress? Then I though, good. The better for us. While these lily wearing Pansy toddlers were feverishly trying to get their visuals back after having an onslaught of ruffles strewn in their face, my little Mary Lou Retton prodigy will be flipping circles around them. (even if she DID look more like Bruce Jenner)
The "teacher" instructed all the parents and children to sit in a circle on the big red mat. She spoke in an extremely high voice...almost in a song like manner. She was small, and her pants matched Emma's to a tee...which only validated the appropriateness of my outfit of choice.
She handed out bells and began to chant this "welcome" song. Most everyone new the words. This was the first clue that I was a fish out of water, and I felt more uncomfortable then when I first walked in. I was desperately hoping that the rest of the class was less structured, and that Emma and I could roam around and explore the various centers on our own.
Not happening. Contrary to that, ehat happened next was, or could be, my worst nightmare in this type of setting. The instructor began another such chant. This one was meant to introduce the parents and the children. A series of claps and she began to sing "my name is blah blah and this is blah blah and this is ......" Unfortunately, I chose to sit directly to the right of her, so naturally, I was up first. As I continued to clap, I followed her lead with the "song" . "My name Je' en and this is...." I was abruptly interrupted by high pitch Suzy gym instructor. "umm...you don't have to sing. A barrage of giggles passed over the crowd and I wanted to crawl into the foam balls and take my chances that there may be a puddle of toddler pee...or boogers...or poop.
"Oh, sorry...I was just following your lead. My name is Jen and this is Emma...and I want to jump on your 85 pound frame and kick your ass because you just affirmed WHY I don't do shit like this." (ok, the latter part...after "Emma" I didn't actually say out loud)
After that, we were told to run in a circle. As each parent lead their child, I was quickly annoyed by how slowly they were moving. I figured it was a free for all, so I encouraged Emma to dash onwards, and I was very proud as we passed those dress wearing girly girls. (its never to early to develop a healthy sense of competitiveness). When it was over, I gave Emma a high five and repeated to her "we won, we won". Skinny instructor lady came over and put her hand on Em's shoulder and said...its not a competition, we are all having fun). (clearly, I joined the wrong institution)
The rest of the class proceeded uneventfully. I tried to engage Emma in all the activities, but I would be lying if I didn't admit I was intrigued by tattoo covered mom, long pony tail dad, and the mom AND dad who doted over their ginormous headed son.
When class was over, I felt Emma had enough fun that I would sign up for the fall session. It cost a whopping $300, which made me throw up in my mouth a little bit.
We hopped over to marshalls and purchased 2 new outfits. A pink Nike suit, and a purple Polo velour suit.
A week passed and the second class commenced. There were significantly MORE people and I was significantly MORE uncomfortable. Emma was not as thrilled to be here. (regardless of how well she looked in her nike pants and Madonna t shirt). She cried and ran to the door. I forced her to stay and brought her to the uneven bars during "introduction" time (dodged that bullet). She loved swinging her little body all by herself. That is, until, ponytail dads chunky little boy (I swear he was 3) ran in her way and she kicked him square in the face sending him 2 feet into the air. I was mortified. OK, I wasn't mortified, I was impressed. Plus, that kid seemed old enough to know not to run square into swinging feet.
This, however, upset my Em. She again ran to the door. I whisked her up and gently whispered to her "these people are freaks.....and they have no athletic ability whatsoever. Lets go to Dunkin and get some munchkins...you've earned it..and so did I"
I am seriously contemplating whether to go back next week. The money paid is a strong pull, but my urge to resit parent child groups may be stronger.
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