Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Mae and I skipped Mom and Tot class today. We are such delinquents.
Actually, we're not as bad-assed as I pretend to be. We only skipped it because it was pouring rain (complete with thunder and lightning) and Mae was fast asleep. I got up and got showered anyway, fully intending to wake her up and drag us out of the house but, while shampooing my hair, it occured to me that I was acting like a crazy, high strung person, and I don't want to pass those qualities on to my little girl.
I am so paranoid, lately, about being a bad mother that I'm trying to overcompensate by forcing us to interact with other children and enjoy stimulating activities that Mae couldn't really care less about. And, actually, Baby and Tot class is partly to blame.
Last week, there was another woman there with a 6-week-old baby. She was busy flipping her baby onto her tummy to improve neck control (which her baby hated), then turing her on her back again, dangling various noisy/gaudy toys in front of her and then flipping her on her tummy again. To me, the kid seemed pretty irritated by the whole thing.
Mae, I should explain, is an almost unaturally chilled-out baby, and when I set her down on the mat, she busied herself by staring intently at the other baby, then at the ceiling, then at some mysterious thing off in the distance. I sat down beside her and left her to it because she seemed happy enough.
Then the other mom, while taking a short break from torturing her own child, rubbed Mae on the tummy and said in goo-goo-baby-speak "Whuz wrong, Mae? Do you want somebody to pay attention to you? Do you? Is that what you want?"
In retrospect, I should have rubbed her baby on its tummy and said, in an equally sugary voice, "And do you want your mummy to fuck off and mind her own business?" Except that you would probably get thrown out of Mom and Tot class for using the word "fuck" (probably rightfully so) and, also, I'm not the kind of person who has the nerve to make snappy comebacks in real life.
Instead I just smiled and then went home and felt inadequate all week. If Mae grows up now to be a hermit with poor neck control it will probably be because I didn't flip her on her tummy enough or stimulate her senses with enough interactive, noisy, neon toys.
But this morning, I think I made a big breakthrough in the sanity department. I decided that waking up a peacefully-sleeping, 6-week-old baby to drag her out in a rain storm would definitely make me a worse mother than skipping Baby and Tot class ever could.
Instead, I chilled out, waited for the baby to wake up and then let her stare in googly-eyed awe at the ceiling fan while I snuggled her and watched some bad morning TV. She didn't seem to mind.
I am so paranoid, lately, about being a bad mother that I'm trying to overcompensate by forcing us to interact with other children and enjoy stimulating activities that Mae couldn't really care less about. And, actually, Baby and Tot class is partly to blame.
Last week, there was another woman there with a 6-week-old baby. She was busy flipping her baby onto her tummy to improve neck control (which her baby hated), then turing her on her back again, dangling various noisy/gaudy toys in front of her and then flipping her on her tummy again. To me, the kid seemed pretty irritated by the whole thing.
Mae, I should explain, is an almost unaturally chilled-out baby, and when I set her down on the mat, she busied herself by staring intently at the other baby, then at the ceiling, then at some mysterious thing off in the distance. I sat down beside her and left her to it because she seemed happy enough.
Then the other mom, while taking a short break from torturing her own child, rubbed Mae on the tummy and said in goo-goo-baby-speak "Whuz wrong, Mae? Do you want somebody to pay attention to you? Do you? Is that what you want?"
In retrospect, I should have rubbed her baby on its tummy and said, in an equally sugary voice, "And do you want your mummy to fuck off and mind her own business?" Except that you would probably get thrown out of Mom and Tot class for using the word "fuck" (probably rightfully so) and, also, I'm not the kind of person who has the nerve to make snappy comebacks in real life.
Instead I just smiled and then went home and felt inadequate all week. If Mae grows up now to be a hermit with poor neck control it will probably be because I didn't flip her on her tummy enough or stimulate her senses with enough interactive, noisy, neon toys.
But this morning, I think I made a big breakthrough in the sanity department. I decided that waking up a peacefully-sleeping, 6-week-old baby to drag her out in a rain storm would definitely make me a worse mother than skipping Baby and Tot class ever could.
Instead, I chilled out, waited for the baby to wake up and then let her stare in googly-eyed awe at the ceiling fan while I snuggled her and watched some bad morning TV. She didn't seem to mind.
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Ceiling fans are awesome, and not appreciated enough. Engineering marvel, really. Clearly Mae is ahead of the game, keeping an eye on it. What's so great about the floor? Poor other kid. Lucky Mae!
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