Kids These Days...

Well, it's been an interesting couple of days. I haven't really been too active here on the blog lately because I've had a ton of Mom crap going on. On Thursday we had to take SB to the dentist to have 3 out of 6 cavities filled. I know. That's kind of excessive for a 3-year old. Part of it can be attributed to the fact that we let her have apple juice, although it was diluted with water, in her crib way longer than we should have. But it's not all our fault. Part of it, according to the dentist, is genes and part of it is that her teeth are really close together. Regardless of the reason, both TB and I felt really really guilty as we watched our only daughter, a toddler, lay on the chair with the gas mask on and her mouth pried open.

She was awesome during the actual procedure, but needless to say, she was not a treat that afternoon, as the Novocaine wore off and her "fat lip was tingly." But that day is over. The last 3 cavities are scheduled to be filled on 12/5, and then hopefully she won't have to go back for anything more than regular cleanings for a long long time.

SB's Christmas dance recital is coming up next month- she is in a portion of Trepak from the Nutcracker. Basically, her job is to put on a tutu and look adorable while the "big girls" dance around her. And by "big girls" I mean skinny little 6 or 7 year olds. So this past week, SB's class was treated to a rehearsal with the big girls. The first 15 minutes of class went as follows: the little girls stood there glued to the floor as they stared at the big girls, who were showing off by prancing all around the room. Then, as the initial amazement wore off, the little girls actually started doing their portion of the dance (jump big, jump little, jump up, jump down). It actually looked like it might turn into something choreographed on stage, once the big girls stepped in and helped the little ones do their thing. I was touched that the big girls were so willing to help and so eager to be role models for the little ones. They meshed really well and I couldn't wait for SB to become one of the big girls.

That wish changed very quickly.

The big girls who shared the dance with SB's class left and SB and her friends continued with the tap portion of their lesson. Here's where all the drama started.

SB's lesson runs from 4:30-5:30. All of the parents (4 of us) hang out in the waiting room, always doing the same thing. I'm always reading. Anna's mom is usually bouncing back and forth between reading, gabbing on the phone, and reprimanding Anna for commando crawling out of the studio or laying on the floor and licking it during the lesson. Jordan's dad either just sits there watching the class or sometimes works on his laptop while listening to music. And Gabriella's mom just sits there staring out the window. We each have our own "spot" (although sometimes Jordan's dad and I fight for the coveted seat where you can peek in on class without having to get up. Whoever gets there first gets the prize.) and pretty much stay there.

Usually, around 5 or 5:15ish, a 10-year old-ish hip hop class commences, where about 3-4 kids kind of roll in one at a time, put on their shoes and disappear into the room. I think they are dropped off because I rarely see a parent. Something was different this week and I'm really hoping it was a one-time thing.

Instead of the usual hip hoppers, little girls around 5 or 6 started coming in with their moms. I had finished all my books, so I grabbed Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart, which I've had forever but can't seem to get into so I've never finished it. And I was still having trouble getting into it. But I found that it got more and more difficult to concentrate with the growing crowd.

There were only 4 kids at first but it sounded like a freaking riot. The kids were running around, shouting and screaming and the moms were even being loud and gabbing, completely ignoring their savage kids. They were jumping up onto the counter of the desk and grabbing at things on the other side. They were slapping each other and yelling at their moms, who were completely ignoring them, immersed in their own conversations. I understand that kids will get loud, but there was a class going on, and the waiting room is not big. Why weren't these parents keeping their kids quiet?

I actually got up from my seat and moved into the hallway portion of the waiting room near the door because the entire group was giving me such a headache. From this perch, I could see the door of the classroom, but the belly of the waiting room was out of sight. The kids gathered around SB's classroom door and peered in, then proceeded to make fun of everything SB and her little classmates were doing.

I tried very hard not to judge. Kids will make fun of other kids. It doesn't mean they are bad kids. And parents will let them make fun of other kids. I guess this doesn't mean they're bad parents. I'm sure these girls (and one boy- who was the brother of a dance student, I think) didn't realize that it's normal for 3-year olds to not know their right from their left? So if the teacher is saying "tap, tap, tap on your left foot" and half the girls are tap, tap, tapping on their right foot, I wouldn't expect these kids to share my enthusiasm that there is actually tap, tap, tapping going on at all, even if it is the wrong foot!

But then something happened that completely made me hate these kids, as much as an adult could really hate a kid.

A little girl walked in with her mother, obviously planning on taking the same class as these girls. This little girl had very very long blond hair and a very round face. She stood apart from the other girls, and I gathered from watching that this was her first time attending class. The other girls formed a semi-circle about 2 feet away from this girl and were obviously making fun of her. Two feet away from her. As she watched them. And as her mother watched them. And as I watched them. Also in plain view of their own mothers, who were (hopefully) not paying attention.

A minute later, the girls moved away from the blond girl, but very obviously were talking about her. The mother reached out and patted the girl's hair, and I was on the verge of tears.

I had complete sympathy for the mother. It must be so hard to watch other kids judge your own kid, yet not really be able to do anything about it because you want your child to learn to fend for herself and develop tough skin because it just gets worse as they get older. And it broke my heart to see this girl being made fun of-- and she's not even my own kid! And it made me so mad that the chatty girls' mothers didn't even reprimand them for being so rude.

As a mom, I never want SB to be on the victim side of taunting. But on the other hand, I'd probably rather she be made fun of than turn into the snobby brat that makes fun of other kids.

I left dance that day appreciating her vulnerable yet non-judgmental age.