A disaster of a music class.

Don't let the smiles fool you. No one was smiling here.

 

The other day I wrote a review on DesMoinesParent.com about a recent music class I attended with Lucan. If you read between the lines, I didn’t really say anything favorable about the experience. While I didn’t want to write anything discouraging because it wasn’t really their fault that we had a HORRIBLE time, they didn’t really help the matter either. 

In hindsight, I probably should have done a different Saturday. Lucan had just finished his first week at his new daycare/school and every morning had been rough. Lucan had spent the previous week in transition (i.e.: we had no daycare) at his grandparents and getting back into a routine had been difficult, especially mornings. Mornings are always hectic trying to get everyone out of the door on time and in a good humor to boot. Add in a new daycare routine and coming off of a week of sleeping in, everyone was spent. I should have taken that Saturday to just bum around the house and chill. Instead I committed us to a mommy and me music class so I could write my review and not feel delinquent. BAD IDEA.

Picture a circle of well-dressed moms and baby Gap kiddos all patiently clapping their hands and humming along to some asinine Irish folk song. Then insert reluctant Lucan and sweaty Kara (I swear the room was like 200 degrees) and you can start imagining how things started. Lucan then proceeded to ask multiple times where his snack was (LOUDLY I might add) and refuse to climb off my lap. The group leader had everyone rise and dance around a circle. I, on the other hand, while sweating, was forced to drag Lucan. When he refused to be drug anymore, I had to pick up and carry his suddenly limp, unable to-stand-on-his-own body and gamely smile with the rest of the moms. At that point I was managing. Even with the annoying Celtic music that everyone else seemed to know the words to while I was still wondering what ever happened to “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.” (for real – how much cultural awakening do two year-olds need?)

But things started to really unravel when the parachute was brought out. You know the parachute in which kids flop it up and down and have a blast? Yeah, Lucan got really excited by it too. Until the folk song ended and it had to get put away. Lucan wasn’t done playing and was super pissed when it was put back. And when I say “super pissed” I mean “the-world-has-ended-and-my-mom-told-me-the-tooth-fairy-isn’t-real” pissed. 

It was at that point in Lucan’s wailing that we got asked to leave class. Fantastic. Mom-humiliation at its best. So Lucan and I stepped outside and he finished his tantrum. I wanted to sneak back into the sweat room to retrieve our stuff but the door was locked. I had to bang on the door to get back in and gather up our stuff (so much for slipping in unnoticed). And the icing on the cake: being asked at the end of class if we wanted to sign up for classes for the rest of year. Ha. NOT ON YOUR LIFE. 

Again, it wasn’t the music class’ fault we had a terrible time, but rather an accumulation of bad circumstances. If you want to read my review, check it out here. Besides, you might happen to have an affinity for Irish folk songs. :)