Complete with The Exorcist Back Bend and a feeble attempt to muffle shrieks with the beloved pacifier, we finally decide to leave story time 15 minutes in. We are two for two on failed story time. As a believer in second chances, I thought I’d give it another go after a good night’s rest and playing on library grounds before the 10 am regularly scheduled story time at our local library. As a mom with the only child running out of the room, I will not be returning to story time with Humnoy next week or the weeks after.
further consult with my online commune whining on Twitter, I’m not alone and he’s not ready right now. He’s not ready to let me relax and watch him do the song and dance all the other kids are doing. He’s not ready to sit on his own for longer than half a page in a story book. He’s not ready to for me to be ready.
The world knows I have been ready since the day I have been forever-exhausted with this non-stop fireball of activity. I should have known my days were numbered when he took his first steps at 7 months that this kid will not stop. Why am I expecting him to sit down for an entire 30 minutes in a room full of quiet kids with their hands in their lap? It’s self-induced peer pressure, that’s what. I hear about all these kids who sit on their potty chair, enjoy to read books, and actually can entertain themselves with items that are meant for toddler leisure time.
What comes as the next blow is from Gym Hottie who asks, “”What are we gonna do when he starts school?” I have flashes of vision from my teaching days where I worked day in and day out with kids with hyperactivity and were medicated because of it. They required constant supervision, accountability, and were actually just kids who did not meet the qualifications as a part of the “general” student population. Why does that make them ‘special’ or ‘inclusive?’
I now have this fear that my child will not only fail story time but also at the traditional school model. The fear that I now understand comes from the exhausted faces of the parents of the “active” children who had pink slips and phone calls home on a daily basis. I’m that mom who I made assumptions about in their home life, judged their parenting style, and thanked god that I wasn’t their kid’s parent. I fear that I fail not only myself and my kid who literally can’t help but enjoy what he enjoys doing.
He enjoys somersaults, running as fast as he can across a field or room, and sharing his personality when he sees fit. He doesn’t have to enjoy story time, synchronized clapping, or even other kids his age. My only fear should be that I can’t seem to realize this, not that he doesn’t do what they’re doing.
Forget story time. Forget those kids who can pay attention. We’re gonna go all buck wild at the playground because that’s how we know we have fun. We’re gonna dance to Blues Clues because he pointed to all three clues himself. We’re gonna enjoy this short time together before he enjoys things without me. I can’t fail in living these little moments.
What didn’t work out as you’d planned with your kid(s)? Did you try again?
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