I’m considering Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu lessons for
the following reasons:
a) So
as to avoid child services being called on me while I change my baby’s diaper
in public. Let’s just say my child once ended up in the sink of a restaurant
butt ass naked while I tried to collect the trail of both clean and dirty
diaper, wipes, diaper cream, etc. she left behind.
b) Cutting
her nails should take 5 minutes, not an hour. If I could only master the art of
leg-locks…
c) Putting
a Band-Aid on her fingers leaves me looking like I’ve just come out of a Spartacus episode.
I’ve said this before and I’ll say it
again…doing any of the above activities is like watching a nature show: Man vs. Alligator except it’s more like Mommy vs. Baby. You watch it, and all
you think is, “I sure as hell don’t ever
want to try that.”
Welcome to my life…
Allow me to elaborate: I’ve been thinking of
possible business endeavors now that I’m a stay-at-home mo. Amongst them is
starting a Mommy and Me Jiu-Jitsu Academy,
‘cause if your child is anything like mine Mommy
and Me Yoga doesn’t even fall within the realm of possibilities. My child’s
energy level literally goes from 0 – 10. That is, she’s either sleeping or in
constant motion. I take Matilda to weekly Gymboree classes and even there, a
place where kids can roam free, I have to restrain her to prevent her from bulldozing
over all the other playing kids. I have that
kid. Granted, I love the fact that my child is energetic, but sometimes it can
get to be a little much…
On our first day at Gymboree, Matilda managed to
shed blood within five minutes of our arrival. Her excitement was such that she
decided it was a great time to launch herself into the great uncharted world of
walking. Needless to say, she face-planted right into the carpet and bit her lip.
Luckily, at that very moment she saw another baby arrive and forgot all about
her injury.
During some point in the class, all the smiling,
starry-eyed mommies are asked to gather in a big circle to play with our little
ones. The teacher then goes on to tell us to sit our precious ones on our laps
for a round of stimulating activities. We all comply and soon we’re chanting “Trot Trot to London,” except that while
all the other mommies managed to stay in their place with their babies happily
bouncing on their laps, I was getting my daily cardio fix trying to keep up
with my child, the miniature bulldozer. Now, it’s one
thing for other mommies to ask me, “Is she always
so energetic?” and drop comments like, “Wow, she sure does like to bounce.” But
when the Gymboree teacher starts making remarks like, “Matilda, how old are
you? You’re just so upright and full of life,” (translation: why won't you stay still kid?) you know shit is on a whole
other level.
I
know what many of you are thinking, so let me clarify: I DO NOT give my child sugar. For that simple reason, you can all
probably understand my dreaded fear of the inevitable: Birthday Parties. I’m
actually considering telling Matilda she is deathly allergic to sugar, in hopes
of maintaining her energy at a “normal” level. Just the thought of Tilly on a
sugar rush gives me serious anxiety! But hey, what can I expect when it turns
out your husband did the following all before the age of 10:
a)
Was offered a job as a circus act after some
Circus person saw him climbing a tree in his front yard. True story.
b)
Lit his
house on fire with a plastic bow and arrow. I swear to you…
c)
Was stopped by the police on the highway while
driving from one city to another on a mini motorbike…He was 10 years old.
Fast forward 30+ years...Babies Beware #tillythemenace