There's a small theater in the nearby village that hosts various kinds of performances regularly, including things for kids. You know the kind of thing--people with puppets, people with banjos, people doing magic. Whatever. I try to take my kids when I can, because it's good for them to get out of the house and see people other than me sometimes. But the truth? I hate going to this stuff.
Not just because of the cringing induced in adults by watching a grown woman wearing a bonnet and making a caterpillar puppet sing songs (what, just me who cringes?), but because I am always That Mom, with That Kid.
You know That Mom: The one who spends the whole time pulling her kid off of things and away from things, trying to get him (or her) to sit down, to talk quietly, to not jump off of the ramp to the side of the theater or run to the front of the theater to demand loudly if those (puppet) eggs in that (puppet) nest have baby birds in them.
To use some not-at-all-random examples that were pulled from our theater-going experience just today.
I have no idea how it is that other children Cubby's age manage to sit still for 45 minutes of puppets and singing, because I'm pretty sure Cubby would have to be both drugged and shackled to the chair to accomplish that feat. I don't even bother trying to make him sit anymore, settling instead for having him stay in a mostly-controlled area where he's not leaping in front of other people or tripping them when he lies down on the floor. Which he always does, inexplicably.
To add to the fun this time, Charlie spent most of the performance in my lap, trying to reach the hair of the woman sitting in front of us. I managed to keep her from being scalped and only had to quell two fits from Cubby. I do this by pulling him--screaming (him, not me)--down the aisle to the back, where I kneel down and quietly tell him that he can calm down and keep watching or we can go home. He elected to stay, so obviously he's getting all kinds of culture from these outings.
He'd better be. I'd hate to think I'm suffering needlessly.
8 comments:
Totally with you. My daughter can't sit still for story time. We've been once and it was so emotionally scarring, not only for me having to watch a professional read a story book aloud with giant articulation, but having to try and manhandle my independent child into a sitting position to actually HEAR it.
Disaster. Never again. Now I just let her run around in the park. While I drink coffee and trail after her. Much more my speed.
Kindergarten will settle Cubby; you have only two more years to wait. And beside, those other moms are probably thanking you because you are the one with the noisy kid, not them!
Interesting how very young Cubby used to be so quiet at the library. I remember the envy of your sister-in-law that Cubby would actually sit in your lap during story time.
I'm impressed that Charlie actually listens and responds to rational arguments. That's definitely something to be celebrated.
I don't comment often but I have four kids and have spent many years in the trenches. I thank God for those moms with those kids. They are being consistent with discipling their child. It's the moms that just say "don't do that" yet don't stop them from doing that. They just give up and the kids know that Mom doesn't really mean it. Kudos to you.
Donna B.
Ugh, everyone is that Mom; the ones that look like they're not are just having a good day, or haven't reached that point yet (or maybe gown out of it! That does happen). I was that Mom AND a mean jerk to boot; my peers all seemed to ask their children to get down off the table, I was just all, "NO." Meany.
Ugh, everyone is that Mom; the ones that look like they're not are just having a good day, or haven't reached that point yet (or maybe gown out of it! That does happen). I was that Mom AND a mean jerk to boot; my peers all seemed to ask their children to get down off the table, I was just all, "NO." Meany.
I don't know how you do it. I'd just let my kid grow up never seeing anyone else since I couldn't stand the grown woman doing the book reading for a moment. Or the crazy freaking out.
I'm getting the chills just thinking about it.
You're a champ.
My son was that kid, and he did get some culture out of it. He used to retain those stories and ask questions about them weeks later, which showed me that he was paying attention, although you wouldn't have thought it by the way he was running around.
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