Hi! I'm Lindsay Ferrier. You might remember me from a blog called Suburban Turmoil. Well, a lot has changed since I started that blog in 2005. My kids grew up, I got a divorce, and I finally left the suburbs for the heart of Nashville, where I feel like I truly belong. I have no idea what the future will hold and you know what? I'm okay with that. Thrilled, actually. It was time for something totally different.
July 23, 2015
When I had my first child, I couldn’t wait to enjoy all the perks that came with being a new mom. After all, I’d spent nine long months anticipating my baby’s arrival- It was time to get this parenting show on the road! And so, almost immediately, I started taking my tiny daughter to story times. And puppet shows. And music classes. I even joined a playgroup for babies.
I still laugh every time I think about that so-called ‘playgroup.’ My daughter was three months old – She couldn’t even sit up, nor could most of the other babies in attendance. But we were all moms now, dammit, and we were ready to make the most of it! For the next six months, we all sat in a big circle on the floor once a week and watched as our children teethed… and drooled… and reached for toys… and totally ignored each other. Sure I made new friends, but I distinctly remember thinking my baby would get a lot out of the experience, too. Um, NOPE.
Of course, now I know the cold hard truth: My baby was too young for a playgroup. She was also too young to get anything out of baby music classes or story times. She was definitely too young for that outrageously expensive live ‘Wiggles’ show we thought she needed to see when she was six months old. She was too young for her first birthday party extravaganza, which I had planned with a maniacal fervor and which resulted in an overstimulated, teary-eyed little girl. And she was too young at 18 months for that Pixar movie I was just sure she’d love– or any other movie, for that matter.
She was also too young to play soccer at the tender age of three– which probably explains why she sat down in the middle of her first game, refused to get up, and had to be carried by the coach (who also happened to be her father) off the field.
The same thing happened during her second game.
Annnnd her third game.
Good times, people.
GOOD TIMES.
What I didn’t understand back then was that I was about to have YEARS of children’s theater performances, school festivals, science experiments, team sports, ballet recitals, kid parties, day camps, field trips, sleepovers, music lessons, service projects, rehearsals, class celebrations, and craft times ahead of me– so many years that by the time my kids outgrew the stuff and moved on to something different, I would be overjoyed about it. And what I also didn’t know was that just a few years later, I’d be so busy running my kids back and forth from the many activities and events they actually wanted to participate in that I’d yearn for the days when I didn’t have to take them anywhere- and regret the time I’d wasted forcing them to be part of activities they couldn’t have cared less about.
But we all go through this, right? I see dozens of new moms (and a few new dads, too) at every children’s activity I attend, all eagerly holding babies on their knees or in their arms. These babies can’t understand a word that’s being said on stage, or shake a tambourine to a beat, or hold a crayon at a craft time. And that’s fine with me- I get what these parents are going through. I totally get it, because I was that mom once. So it’s all good…. We veteran parents love you noobs and we want you to join us– but you’ve got to do one thing for the rest of us in return.
You’ve got to know when to get out.
If, for example (and this is totally not hypothetical), you’ve brought your 18-month-old to a puppet show and he’s in the mood to babble incoherently at the top of his lungs throughout the entire performance, thus keeping every other child around him from hearing what the puppeteers are saying?
Get your kid out of there. Get him out of there immediately.
“But it’s a children’s event!” I assume you’re thinking as your child ba-ba-BAAAAS. “And I have a child! He has every right to be there!”
Not if he’s ruining it for other kids who are actually paying attention. If that’s the case? Kid’s gotta go.
Nobody’s blaming your kid for being too young to be quiet at a performance. They’re blaming you. And you, my friend? YOU KNOW BETTER.
Get your kid out of there.
As frustrating as this is at free events, it’s practically road rage inducing at performances we’ve all paid good money to attend. I splurged once on $40 tickets for my daughter and I to see a matinee performance of The Nutcracker downtown– NEVER AGAIN. The number of crying babies in the audience drowned out the symphony and completely spoiled the magic. Outwardly, I remained calm, but inside I was seething, and I’m pretty sure steam was plainly visible coming out of my ears during The Waltz of the Flowers. And that’s just not right.
Hey. I realize that leaving a performance early isn’t enjoyable- I’ve been in those shoes, too many times to count. My son couldn’t be trusted at a public event until he was five years old, and as a result, I have spent a lot of time in a lot of lobbies. But I have good news for those of you in the tantrum trenches– It does, indeed, get better. Today, my son is eight and he can sit through just about anything– and if you keep up with me on Facebook, you can tell that I’m now totally making up for lost time. We go EVERYWHERE now, at every opportunity, partially because of all those years we missed out on movies and plays and concerts while my son was possessed by demons a preschooler.
So let’s recap, parents.
Got a baby or toddler at a show who’s behaving themselves? AWESOME. Love ya. Mean it.
Got a baby or toddler at a show who’s crying/screaming/shouting/throwing knives/vomiting/pooping/smoking crack? GET. THE HELL. OUT.
Thanks for reading, and I’ll see you at the next story time!
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LOVE. LOVE. LOVE.
Yes yes yes! But I have to disagree with you about playgroup before the child is sitting up! I took my now 28 year old to Gymboree classes for infants when she was 3 months old and met a wonderful group of first time moms like me. Our kids played together until at the age of three, the last of our group moved away from the city. But we were each others sanity and my daughters first friends!
My daughter was in a weekly playgroup from the time she was three months old until she was four– and today, she doesn’t remember ANY of it. 🙁 I made some good mom friends, but I can’t believe our kids spent all that time together and don’t have any memories of being together!
Ha! I remember Gymboree! I took my son (now 14) there with a group of my mamma friends… there were four of us that had babies all within a month or two of each other. They do this thing where you lay the babies on their backs and then have this giant rainbow colored parachute that you raise and lower over them. Well, over half the babies were in tears. We paid good money to frighten the crap out of our precious bundles… awesome! After that we just met at each others houses for some grown up time while the babies drooled and bababaaa’ed at each other.
You are hysterical! I want a playgroup with you … and adult beverages!
If I could turn back time… 😉
I wish I had read this before I wrangled my first (and only!) son, stroller, and mounds of baby stuff to some of these groups. I will say, I quickly learned that tractor pulls, monster truck shows, and other loud events involving big machinery were our family’s “fun event” reality for awhile. Thank goodness I have a strange obsession with monster trucks. I am thankful for your funny and true post. I hope new moms and dads will take note of your post, for themselves, their kids, and for the sanity (and paychecks) of the other families with kids old enough to enjoy theater, shows, etc. I recently sat through a Marvel movie that my son and I were so excited about only to have a three, maybe four-year-old cry during the more intense scenes and then loudly ask his parents numerous questions about the plot of the movie (even I was struggling a bit to keep up;) IMHO, the child was simply too young for the movie. In addition, two families, each with newborns in carriers, were also present. Both quiet for a little bit, then it became a dueling cry fest. None of these families took their little ones to the lobby. Typically, I will politely speak up, but was feeling pretty beat down that day and tried to just block it out. My boy wasn’t too happy, either. Told him we’d just see it, again, when it comes out on video;) Thanks, Lindsay.
My favourite is the swimming lessons at 1,2,3,4,5… Overachiever much?
Kids can’t be left alone in the pool, are in life jackets 24/7 all summer long and physically lack the coordination to move their arms and legs at the same time – lol. Yet the moms and dads that line up at 5am or log on to their account at 11:59:59 to register for little sun splashers class or jellyfish jigglers cause angst among the moms group groupies
When my son turned 7, with only 3 sessions of lessons under his belt he was the least “advanced” in his class. FFwd 6 months and he’s easily holding his own…. And the beauty is I don’t have to get into the pool beside him anymore!