|Easter Egg Hunt "I found everything!"|
For a few days, just following Spring break, the kids and I found ourselves with the SG pad ALL to ourselves.
Poor Zoe-bug had gotten a bit of a cold (following Holden's cold we were nursing in Vegas)...so we had a lot of downtime. When I wasn't reading a Jude Deveraux Historical Romance Novel (I know, weird right?) or going through old clothes/boxes while the kids napped, we occupied our time with various activities.
One was to try out SG's Storytime for Pre-Schoolers with Mrs. Mann. So this isn't really story-time. it's more like 45-minutes of free preschool. Yes, the Mrs. Mann read a couple of books and even sang songs -- but she also drilled numbers (including addition and subtraction), letters, taught them sign language and worked on say-singing (or is it sing-saying?) the alphabet backwards.
This was not the free-for-all he'd experienced in Yoga; nor was it the physical exercise he adores in gymnastics.
|At the Clubhouse Pool - my first attempt |
at taking the kids to the pool...all by myself
This was crazy brain work -- I don't think Holden knew what hit him.
I moved to the back of the room to try and discretely nurse Zoë, but Holden seemed a little anxious. Eventually he joined me. Not far after he decided he wanted to leave.
OK, no worries. I tucked away the hooties, strapped Zoë back to me in the pack and headed out.We had almost made it to the parking lot when he decided he did in fact want to join Mrs. Mann for more storytime.
We reviewed expectations. It wasn't long until he joined me in the back of the room again. As I was packing up Z, again he wandered over to a table of older kids not participating in Mrs. Mann's storytime for the gifted and talented.
"Hey, I want to play this game with you," I heard Holden say...enthused and excited.
I started walking towards the table, tucked behind a bookshelf hoping he was at least attempting some adherence to social norms (or at least hadn't commandeered the game.)
|At the St. George Arts Fest with Mama Suite -|
sporting his new Man-About-Town Hat
As I turned the corner, I found my son squished in between a couple of kids looking (but not touching) their game of checkers. A little blonde headed punk replied, "We don't want to play with you. You're not fun."
I looked right at him, with what I can only attribute to the genetic sauciness of my hispanic roots, eyes glaring with unrelenting intensity. it was obvious he had not expected an adult to hear.
"That wasn't very nice." I said, directly to him...
He looked stunned. I looked around for a parent -- either to come to his rescue or tell off about what a jerk their child was being. No one came to his defense.
I took Holden's hand and making sure they knew my message was not directed at my son said firmly. "Come on Holden, let's go. These kids are NOT being nice."
I was upset...more so than Holden.
"Those were not nice boys." I said to him as we exited the library.
"Were they bad guys?" He asked. I took a deep breath and sighed. I wanted to say "Yes, they were crappy boys with whom karma will rear it's ugly head on and they'll suddenly find themselves friendless and unsupported."
Instead I squeezed Holden's hand in mine a little tighter and replied, "They just don't know how great you are."
"So they are good guys who just make bad choices?" My heart melted, and then leaped almost out of my chest with pride.
"Yes!" I exclaimed. "That's exactly what they are! Good guys who just make bad choices."
I guess we learned something at Mrs. Mann's Storytime after all... I just wasn't expecting the lesson to be for me.