Toddler Class Hell
Oh my god is 10:30 a.m. too early for a beer? Man I tell you, I joined toddler class when Alexander was around 14ish months. I had the stardust in my eyes of making life long mommy friends and cherished childhood pals for X. But now, if it were just me, I’d never go again. You see, each time I take X to class now-a-days I have this hope or notion that runs through my mind – maybe this time will be different.
You see, I’m writing this post emotionally charged after just getting home from class, and yes, I’ve parked my kid in front of the TV with cuties and O’s to snack on in order to purge my toxic thoughts so I can regret it later.
To X, class is class, it’s good for him…that’s why I still go. But to me, I feel the junior high awkwardness of the girl along the wall that smiles but will not ever be asked to dance. I’ve been in the class for several months now, it’s the same people I’ve been going to class with the entire time for the most part. With the exception of one mom that is polite to X and I, no one really has extended the hand of long lasting friendship, barbeques and birthday parties, days at the park, trips to the zoo. Partly that is my fault because I don’t know how to express genuine niceties. I fake niceties for a living and frankly it’s exhausting. On my own time I’d like to just be the usual off color sharp tongued gal I am and not have points off for that.
The class today started good, X was happy…at first. And by the end, as usual, I’ve questioned my aptitude as a mom and want to crawl into a hole. And all I really crave from my mommy counterparts is any sort of “hang in there”, while my kid is hitting me and screaming “NOOOO”. Instead I get side-eyed and I can feel the penetrating thoughts of others wondering what goes on in my home life that warrants such misbehavior. Oh don’t get me wrong, I know I’m a good mom, my kid loves me, he’s happy. But he hits and screams and he pretty much does that only with me, which I know in my heart will pass, but could a mom from class just give me even a look of kindness or roll their eyes suggesting they know what I’m going through…just a non-verbal sign of I know it sucks but you’ll survive. And what about an enthusiastic “See you next week!” from someone, anyone, to suggest our presence is not a total bust.
I don’t like to be in situations that make me uncomfortable. And that’s what class does to me. I know it’s all about the boy and what’s best for him. He needs to be around other kids and I need to just keep on keeping on, hoping for the day class goes well and I drive home feeling empowered, instead of wanting to get my drunk on.
So…there’s the rant. I feel better.