Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
Wednesday, February 17, 2010 Gym Dandy II
One of the things Trash likes about the gym we signed M. Edium up for is the loyalty points program. She wanted to get started racking them up right away, which is why she immediately called her sister and had him sign up her six-year-old, whom I will call Denephew.
She not only signed him up, she signed him up for the same class M. Edium was taking, at the same time, on the same night.
We're really happy having an only child, but one of the results of that is that whenever M. Edium gets around one or more of his cousins, he gets wound up. I had my doubts about this arrangement when we headed over to M. Edium's first official class, but I also had my hopes that his usual excitement would be channeled into all the directed jumpin and running around that goes on in there. Especially now that I knew the rules about parents not being allowed in there.
Which turned out to be a good thing, because if we had been, I would have been in there yelling at him instead of only pressing my angry, snarling face against the glass.
M. Edium and Denephew quickly emerged as the problem children, but after a short time the class separated into two groups and they were split up. And several minutes later, M. Edium even followed his group to the other side of the gym.
He wasn't so bad during the time they were off in their separate groups, but then the class reunited at the edge of the room, and bouncy balls were handed out, and he quit listening all over again, even as Denephew continued to behave. You know that feeling when your kid is that kid. And if you don't, keep reading.
In the car on the way home, after I had explained that we would not be stopping for fries as Trash had suggested, I gave him a pretty hard time for not doing what the teacher said.
M. Edium, who is always truthful, almost to a fault, asked me, "Could you hear what the teachers were saying?" Now, I never yelled, I never swore, I did anything scary, but I confess I may have resorted to sarcasm.
"So are you saying," I asked, "that the teacher was telling all of the kids but you to put their feet on the ball, but you were supposed to throw your ball at Denephew's head?"
Silence from the back seat.
"And when the teacher told the other kids to pick up their balls in their hands and carry them around in the circle, she told you to keep throwing yours at Denephew's head?"
"And that at the end of class, the teacher had all the other kids put their balls away, but you were supposed to keep throwing yours at Denephew's head?"
To his credit, he was not saying that.
The next week, class was preceded with dire warnings about what would happen if he didn't listen better. At the top of the list of threatened occurrences was no more gymnastics classes. Which I was a little worried about myself, as I wasn't sure we could get our money back at this point.
But it turned out okay. I suspect part of this was because Denephew, being a year older, had been promoted to a different class that meets on a different day at a different time. Which is win-win, because we get to keep our referral points, M. Edium gets more out of his lessons, and Denephew is in much less danger of sustaining severe head trauma. At least until the next family gathering. posted by M. Giant 5:25 PM 1 comments
Wow--I have SO been there. My oldest is usually very well behaved, but if there's another kid who is acting wild, she usually thinks that kid is hilarious. She not only eggs on the wild child, but sometimes ends up participating in whatever craziness that kid is cooking up. It's mortifying when you hear your kid getting singled out--repeatedly.