Henry and I had our first music class today. We danced, we sang, we wiggled. All fun stuff. Super.
The class starts precisely at the time Henry's morning nap typically commences. This worries me but I figure (correctly) that he'll be memorized by the music and put up with the class with no fuss. Mommy intuition dead on.
The class winds down and I can tell he's just done. His diaper is wet and I want to get him out of there STAT. So we pile up our stuff which includes the honking big diaper bag, (love my bag though I do, I'm a small purse kind of gal. This big bag stuff sucks.) my Bjorn, and the big bag of materials we receive in the first class. Apparently there are CDs, reference materials, the sheet music (oh, we are not messing around. Little did I know this was music class for baby Mozarts.)
So back to the state of Henry - its not looking good. We dart for the car, boy on my hip, bag on my shoulder, music crap and Bjorn under my arm.
Keys. Where the eff are my keys?
The boy is squirming due to wet diapers and it dawns on me I can't just put him down on the pavement of the parking lot. We are momentarily locked out of the car. Crap.
I put the music and the Bjorn on the roof of the car and kind of lean the child on the hood of my car while I rifle through my bag to find the elusive keys. Ah-ha! I break in, change the boy on the front seat and I'm sure you guys know the end of this story already. We zip out of there and leave the Bjorn and the music crap on the roof. I don't even realize it until I get home and there is this condescending message on my machine:
"Um hello - Lauren? This is Diane from the Rec. department. We found a Bjorn in the parking lot and have been tracking down all the babies in your class to see who it might belong to."
What she was really saying was,
"Um - hi Lauren? We are looking for the worst mother in your music class. So we've been calling everyone individually and the unanimous vote was that its you."
Despite the complex I'm refusing to admit that I'm developing - I'm pissed. There was no mention of the music materials in the message which means its somewhere on the streets of my town. I paid precisely a million dollars for this class and I want the freaking materials. What's really annoying is that I can't even go do a quick look around because music class officially kicked Henry's ass and he's been asleep for 2+ hours. So instead of enjoying this deliciously long nap, kicking my heels up and enjoying my saved episode of Top Chef, I'm seething at the pure annoyance of it all.
Bah!
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3 comments:
I am sending long distance hugs from another "worst mom in music class". (I allowed Jackson to roll on the wood floor and he nailed his head-imagine the looks)That being said, try to remember that anyone who judges you and your parenting is the one with the issues, not you. And make them give you more materials next week-you'd think they were made of gold for how much these classes cost! Henry and Jackson are going to have to start their own band now.
Oh boy,I so know this feeling. Except I didn't leave crap on the roof, I locked my kid in the car - WITH MY KEYS! Note to all - do not ever give your baby your keys to amuse themselves with. It can only end with hysterical crying/shrieking to the cops on the phone that your baby is locked in the car while you envision his death by heat stroke even though it's 50 degrees out.
Oh Lord Lauren - have you gotten your sheet music back yet?
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