When my first child was a baby, I searched for the perfect classes to make him brighter, more socialized, more coordinated, and well … perfect. Plus, I was certain that taking all these classes was a reflection on me being an awesome parent. Unfortunately, most of those hyped up classes kinda sucked. Sucked away my time, my money, and my sanity. (I actually have a list of the 5 Most Ridiculous Classes I Took)
Looking back, I wish I had started my own classes because I’d be a millionaire and moms everywhere would bow to me and kiss my ring or at the very least wash my burp clothes. If I could invent the perfect classes they would look something like this…
1. Mommy Massage: Look, I did the Baby Massage classes, they were a waste … Hello, our babies are living lives of total luxury already. My son was being fed at the smallest whimper, stuffed animals and infant toys rained down upon him like a waterfall. He was constantly swathed and swaddled in fine chenilles and cashmere blends. He was bathed and moisturized, perfumed and dehumidified, rocked, shimmied, and lullabied to sleep multiple times daily. The last person that needed a massage was that kid.
They had that class all wrong, it was the moms who needed massaging — the moms who sang BINGO until their voices went hoarse and the words stopped making sense. The mothers who drove their babies around for hours, and strolled their babies for miles, and put their babies on running washing machines in the hopes that they could get a moment of respite.
I say, as soon as those cute little imps are mobile, you have an instructor teach them to crawl back and forth from mommy’s shoulders to her lumbar. Think Shiatsu. Crazy glue Cheerios to your pressure points and let those little ones use their fine motor skills to dislodge them while at the same time pressing on important and calming chakras. Look, I’m not going to pretend to know how to teach infants to give massages. I’m not some baby tension relief genius, just a regular genius who thinks of brilliant baby classes. Even Einstein had his flaws, but I bet someone at MIT could figure it out.
2. WCSM or Who’s Child Sucks the Most? – No, it’s not a breastfeeding class, as the title implies, it’s a class for real people to be real. Like The Real World (except not). Frankly, I got so tired of going to Mommy and Me and listening to how perfect everyone else’s kids were — How long they slept, how little they cried, or how easily they took to the breast. I was tired of gaging how horribly my child was doing by comparison – in terms of hitting milestones early (because it’s not impressive unless they hit them early and it seems everyone else’s did).
I want to go to a class where all you do is complain about the thing your child does that may legitimately drive you insane. Mine cried relentlessly day and night. It was hard to tell if he was good at anything for the first 8 months because he was so busy crying …
So, you tell me yours doesn’t sleep, I’ll tell you mine is never calm, you tell me yours turns over and gets stuck because he can’t turn back and I’ll say, “me too, and it keeps me up all night because I go in and flip him back manually every time.” You see, we can commiserate over that shit and it’s helpful. I however, do not want to know how many words your 9 month old says, or how your 6 month old is multiplying decimals unless he’s offering to do my taxes.
3. Mommy and Me Makeover – Look, there is no greater sign of a new mom than ½ inch roots, a spit-up stained top, tousled hair, and a mani/pedi that’s so far grown out it’s starting to look like a new trend in french nails. We all know that look, plus the look on her face: one eye twitching from lack of sleep, the other glazed over.
When you’re a new mom, vowing to put on a fresh outfit rather than wearing what you wore to sleep the night before is a lofty goal. This is why moms never seem to make it to the appointments that are about us. I say, why get a sitter and make a hair appt. months in advance (that you will probably cancel due to some unforeseen pediatrician’s visit), when you can do it all in the company of your little one and other smelly haggard mommies?
Want a mani/pedi? Baby picks the polish (a small price to pay … and who’s learning their colors? Your baby is!). Need highlights or roots retouched? Baby crunches the foil/cellophane over your hair – hello, fine motor skills! Need a quick hydrating or exfoliating mask? Baby paints it on for you – hello, art class. Yes, I know, brilliant, educational and practical — An invaluable lesson.
PS this is the second level class, first time moms must pass the precursor class: Shower Hour.
4. Baby Blanket Bingo: This is the Mother of all the Mommy and Me classes I invented to become a millionaire. Simply put, it’s a nap class. Sure, everyone says sleep when the baby sleeps, nap when the baby naps … well, fuck them because we all know that is almost as impossible as pretending you wouldn’t marry Adam Levine … almost as impossible as denying that you once had a crush on Scott Baio or Shaun Cassidy or Zac Efron (cougar) … it’s tough.
But in this class everyone naps! How? You start with a healthy dose of Benadryl (for you, not the babies, sheesh people). Then Enya sings them lullabies and one person, per cradle, rocks them with perfect precision. Then you take a blanket and lie yourself on the plush shag carpet of the nap room next door and pass out until Enya wakes everyone with a rousing rendition of Orinoco Flow that leaves you feeling refreshed and only slightly drugged. Don’t even try to sign up … there’s already a wait list.
5. Wine and Whining: New moms infamously need a glass of wine to unwind and often don’t get one because they’re busy … and frankly, the lack of sleep has left them slightly impaired to begin with.
Moms of toddlers need wine for that reason as well, but also it helpful to drown out and deal with the ear shattering whining, temper tantrums, and groaning (over the most minute details) that toddlers are known to do: My sock hurts, The cat hates me, My cookie is cracked.
Let’s be honest, no rational or sober person has the ability to respond to those claims in a way that will sufficiently appease a toddler. This is why it helps to be somewhere between tipsy and moderately drunk. In this state, you may actually understand how socks could hurt. You may attain a level of paranoia that has you thinking, Yeah, I’m pretty sure the cat hates me too, and I think we can all agree drunk or sober, there is nothing worse than a cracked cookie, except a cracked cookie that has fallen to the floor.
Sure, moms will need designated drivers to get them home, but this is a real chance to see eye to eye with your kids when they would otherwise seem insane. This is precious bonding time, not to be missed (let’s just hope you remember it in the morning).
Well, will I be a millionaire or not? Are you signing up for my imaginary classes? Do you have any to add?
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