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April 20, 2006

Play It Again, Sam

The more we sing together, the happier we'll be . . .

I dread Thursdays. It’s my least favorite day of the week. I remember when I worked in an office, Thursdays were always pretty good days. They meant only one more work day until the weekend, Chinese take-out and a night of Must See TV.

Now Thursdays mean one thing: Sam’s music class.

I loved the concept of music class. You show up with your baby or toddler, sit in a circle, and then sing or play instruments or dance around. At the very least, you’re setting your child up for a lifetime of music appreciation. Even more enticing, you might just end up with a pint-sized virtuoso on your hands.

So I signed Sam up, and for the past year, we’ve spent our Thursday mornings at music class with Miss Jodi.

At first, Sam was the perfect baby student. He’d sit quietly in my lap for the whole forty-five minute, absorbing all of the new sights and sounds. He’d shake the egg shakers and gently handle the bells. And I was very smug about this.

Big mistake. As I’ve written before, the number one rule of parenting is never get smug.

Now I know it wasn’t inherent good manners keeping him in my lap. Sam was just terrified. If Miss Jodi so much as glanced in his direction, he’d throw himself into my arms and bury his head in my lap, like an ostrich. Every week when we walked into class, his face would fall, and he’d look up at me, aghast, clearly thinking, “Why do you insist on putting me through this?”

But then, gradually, Sam started to loosen up. He began getting up with the other children to retrieve instruments, and would dance with me (provided that I’d dip him), and – most surprisingly – he began to smile shyly at Miss Jodi.

The other moms in the class commented that Sam was starting to come out of his shell, and would reminisce about how nervous he’d been in the beginning. And I was even more smug, proud of Sam’s joie de vivre.

Yeah, well. Fast-forward a few months. Now Sam has dropped all of his inhibitions. And I do mean all. He has no interest in sitting in my lap, or playing the instruments, or even dancing. Now he just wants to run around the room like a wild thing, and – even better – get the little girls riled up until they’re running with him, while their moms radiate disapproval.

“Sam,” I hiss, when I catch him trying to climb up on the exercise bar (the room doubles as a dance studio) like a monkey, “do you want a time out?”

He just giggles. And then as soon as I lead him back to the circle, and sit him down in my lap, he pops up again and races off.

So, yes, I dread Thursdays. But I still haven’t worked up to dropping the class. Sam just seems to enjoy it so much, and I can’t bring myself to take it away from him.

Then again, I have been mulling over the idea of switching him over to art lessons. At least then, I wouldn’t have to sing to public.

Posted by Whitney at 8:52 AM | Comments (4)

Comments

Posted by: Eileen at April 20, 2006 11:29 AM

Posted by: Alesia Holliday at April 20, 2006 11:47 AM

Posted by: Whitney at April 20, 2006 5:50 PM

Posted by: Michelle C at April 24, 2006 2:45 AM