We’re attending our second music class today. The first one was last Thursday and fifteen minutes into it, I vowed never to return. It wasn’t nearly as bad as mama and baby yoga, but it would have made for an excellent soundtrack.
Whomever decided that a 13-month-old could sit calmly in a room surrounded by expensive guitars, keyboards and things that go bang, spent too much time with the bong while everyone else was singing Kumbaya. My kid wasn’t about to just be with the instruments. He wanted to touch, strum and destroy the instruments.
And then whomever decided that holding a music class for toddlers at a boutique that sells toys, lactating boob paraphernalia, and stuffed animals was an even crazier individual. It was like taking a cat to the can-opener testing facility. You know, if there were such a place.
But we tried. And I think Em had a good time. Truthfully, I’m not absolutely certain because I couldn’t hear much with the screaming and all. I spent the better half of the class chasing him around making sure he didn’t smash the instructor’s guitar, or walk on his expensive keyboard. Our only contribution to the chorus, was whenever Em let out one of his famous, high-pitched screams because mean ol’ mama wouldn’t let him near the important instruments. He threw his head and arched his back in an Oscar-worthy performance as I apologized to everyone around us. “I’m sorry. I know you paid for this. He’s The Destroyer.”
And then at one point, in an admirable attempt to organize, the instructor suggested that we collect our toddlers onto our laps and form a circle around him. Oh, sweet naivety. I was that way once. The suggestion actually made me laugh out loud. It bubbled up and burped itself to the surface without warning.
“You’re joking, right?” I said. “Because that’s definitely not going to happen with Emory.”
Obviously he doesn’t spend much time with 1-year-olds.
When I wasn’t making sure Emory didn’t destroy an expensive instrument or stomp on another child trying to do so, I spent my time making sure he wasn’t pulling everything from the shelves.
Whose idea was it to attend a music class offered at a children’s store where touching and destroying the musical instruments isn’t an option? And then whose idea is it to go back again?
Too bad Xanax makes me drool.
EDITED TO ADD Ok, so round two went much better. We are going to go back for a third time. I think it could work. But I do feel bad for the guy leading the show. I think it’s a difficult age group for such a class. Older? Sure. Younger? Definitely. But 1-year and then some? Tough! But it’s kind of fun and the instructor is a champ in the patience department.
Mihow 
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