There was a music class preview held at our neighborhood amenity center. We bravely attended. Why would we need courage you may ask? Structure and T.Puzzle have a very tumultuous past. It could be a funny disaster or disastrously fun, either way there is danger.
Throughout the course of the class he is slightly aggressive with me. It’s subtle and I am thankful his aggression is channeled to me and not the adorable, one year old girl in the Elmo dress. He sits on my crossed legs with a thump, plants his feet in front of me and pushes back with all his might. It takes a lot of strength on my part to remain upright. At random intervals I have to whisper to him in my scary Mommy voice to ‘knock it off’.
Then there’s a group game. All the kids gather around the teacher and we sing a song about groceries. She directs this question to the gaggle of kids at her feet, “What do you buy at the grocery?”
“Bananas!” a four year old girl says.
The teacher looks at T.Puzzle, “What do you buy at the grocery?”
“Apples!” he says.
I’m so relieved I nearly faint. I was waiting for him to say, “Beer!” or “Guns!” or something wild that would have the whole room questioning the safety of my home as it pertains to child-rearing.
At the end, the teacher puts on the sweetest, most melodic song about thanks and love. We are supposed to rock our kids gently in various configurations to have them wind-down and get some cuddle-connection time with their Mommies. Before the song even hits its first chorus, T.Puzzle is getting intensely wound up. He’s vocally getting loud and I have to lock my legs in fighting stance (see? I pay attention at Tae Kwon Do) so he doesn’t knock me over. I also can barely swing him because he is like a squirmy block of concrete. My friend who attended with me says, “This wouldn’t be a good wind-down routine for him before bedtime I take it.”
“Pretty much, nothing is. And, the really scary part is, he’s my calm child,” I respond.
Overall, he did much better than I anticipated. He didn’t bite, tackle or hit anyone (huge milestone for my boy). He actually participated, danced and even giggled now and then. It wasn’t until it was over that I realized my shoulders were high up around my neck as I had braced myself for the worst. Maybe someday, in the not so distant future, my shoulders will relax and assume a more natural posture. I might even learn to not always expect the worse. I bet if I loosen up, my kid and my shoulders just might follow suit.