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