Let me describe the room as I stood in the corner feeling decidedly awkward as I clutched a wriggling BB to my chest. To the front of me was a bag filed high with instruments of all varieties, tambourines,xylophones, drums, even recorders. To my right stood a bunch of mothers, upon first glance I would term them first time mothers. To my left stood the bounciest, smilest, most energetic person I have encountered in some time. Basically take Jane from Rod, Jane and Freddy, inject her with a class A drug and you should have an image. To most this kind of happiness is infectious; to me it is a little scary.
After sixteen months of having BB in my world I had brought her to her first music class.
She loved it, and I felt like a social outcast. Accustomed to four days a week in an office the sudden vibrancy of being in a church hall with a variety of babies caught me off guard and launched me overboard.
BB saw me for who I really am, a non lover of group nursery rhyme singing. Chirping through Wheels on the Bus with ten other ladies and their silent babies is (for me) as enjoyable as wiping poo from twin boy’s backside.
BB ditched me, she shot me a shamed look as I mixed up my dingle with my dangle on dingle dangle scarecrow and shuffled across the floor and perched herself firmly on the hugely energised teachers lap. Then I was alone…
What does one do in such a situation, either side of me women sang louder and louder, grabbing their children and rolling their arms and kicking their legs. Alone I sank into myself, should I sing? Should I throw myself with gay abandonment into Incy Wincy and do all the hand actions despite the obvious lack of child on my lap? Across the hall BB laughed at my discomfort as she bounced and whirled with her new best friend.
Desperate, I tried to coach her back with enticing beams and little waves. She waved back merrily and then lifted her arms and planted them around the teachers neck.
Incy wincy turned to the Grand Ole Duke and to my intense horror the class stood to march. I had a choice, either stand up and march or lay down and play dead on the battlefield.
I did it, I stood erect, threw myself into character and marched in a way any Sergeant Major would be proud of. The other mums clearly restricted by the babies on the hips had nothing on me. Whilst marching up the hill I saluted and when we went down I also did a couple of kung fu moves to scare off the enemy. And when we were only halfway up I let my face burn with embarrassment whilst trying to hide behind my imaginary gun.
It ended, I collapsed exhausted back on my knees as the strains of Twinkle began to play. I closed my eyes for a moment; then opened them as I felt hot breath on my face and a weight on my lap. Giving me a kiss of approval BB nestled back into my arms, telling me with silent eyes and smiling mouth that we would be back again next week…
haha, well done for throwing yourself into it & gaining BB’s approval, she put you to the test & you passed!
and I have to go back! bugger
I’m burning with mortification here! Oh, the things they do to us 🙂
exactly!
I’m not lover of baby groups, it feels like something I have to do! And BB left you,,, oooh nooo… I would have pretended to enjoy a bit if squash (bleurgh) around then!
she left me! rotter!
Brave you and what a result BB loved it. I blogged recently about all my children being non compliant in these things so when well meaning people ask me what classes I’m taking my 20 month old too I say ‘NONE’
where were you when i needed you!
😉 well done!
thanks!
I made myself so these things with Maxi, not so much with MIni!
wise lady!
Sam ditches me at baby sensory every week. I usually manage to acquire another person’s child so it’s not so bad. Doing baby sign language and singing by yourself isn’t ideal! 🙂
child snatching! I had not considered that!
Ha ha – love it! One class I went to was infuriating as the teacher not only sang familiar songs to completely unfamiliar tunes but she also insisted on singing several octaves too high so it was nigh on impossible to sing along without sounding like a BeeGee.
I am sure you sound lovely as a BeeGee
I often feel ‘what the hell am I doing here, how did this happen to me?’ when I go to baby classes. I went to loads of classes with the boy but the girl has had to go without because, quite frankly, I can’t hack it! You’re braver than me.
most days I just think i am dim!
Well done! Just take comfort in the fact that everyone else was so worried about what they and their children were doing they didn’t notice you at all; and if you think that’s bad; imagine having to train to teach the class with a room full of adults and no children to use as an excuse for looking stupid!
she had a teddy! and my daughter…… 🙂
This did make me laught! This is my idea of hell…. even though I worked in a Primary School for a couple of years, go figure! Toddler groups are defintely things I have to force myself to go to… except I haven’t quite forced myself hard enough yet! :/
really resist, I just have guilt as my first two did them!
Oh, I feel your pain…lovely ending though. You’ll be leading the songs before you know it!
you have my permission to shoot me if I do!
Never go back. BB will live. Go back and you will never live it down.
It sounds like hell.
Ha! But she will give me sad eyes!
Horrendous! I sing all those songs pretty much but just mainly for my son’s ears! It sounded cringeworthy. If you haven’t tried already swimming classes are great fun, following everyone is a circle round the pool on your knees (ouch) with a sergeant major instructor and having the only child that won’t sit nicely on the side on the pool amongst other things. I never went back!
Lol! I do swim but in very shallow pool! X
I take my baby to baby massage and though it’s good to sort of learn the moves for practice at home, she annoyingly never looks at me. All the other babies are staring lovingly into their mothers’ eyes while mine has hers firmly planted on the instructor – no matter where we sit! This makes me feel rather silly when doing the rhymes where we play with their fingers and toes. So, I have a bit of empathy.
Wait till baby 3 you will have more 🙂