Music with Charlie

Today, I joined Charlie in his music class. This is exactly 22 minutes of the strangest behavior I have ever witnessed. They had an actual music professional teaching the class and she didn’t “talk”, she “sang”. Everything.

Like this: “I’m singing…and walking…and singing and lets all put the shakers back in the plastic bin….while we are singing and now everybody sit down in a circle while we sing some more…Jasper, you need to find a tissue for your nose..lalalalala”

So, the other 2 year olds were so into this. They were dancing and jumping and clapping and squealing with delight. Charlie sat on my lap with his mouth slightly open and a crease between his eyebrows just watching. I am sure I had a very similiar look going on. It was more a look of awe…as in “what is wrong with that lady, mommy?”. Don’t get me wrong, Charlie and I let loose and have fun all of the time. But I guess I’ve never had the “Mommy & Me” Gymboree Experience before. Maybe it takes some getting used to.

So Charlie and I sat and watched and ½ participated as we watch the other kids and parents shaking their maracas (and their 'maracas', if you know what I mean), cawing like roosters and singing every little movement that their bodies made. It was strange behavior that Charlie and I couldn't look away from, nor did he want to participate.

There was a portion of the 22 minutes that was dedicated to African music and instruments. Michelle, the singing teacher, prefaced the activity with “this portion of the class requires adult supervision because the instruments are real and can be dangerous to toddlers.” Huh?

I thought the same thing, until she pulled out the instruments. Charlie chose a bracelet-like instrument that had HOOVES attached to it. HOOVES people! It made a wood windchime-like sound when you shook it. But the HOOVES were frightening! They were black/brown and curved and all toenaily and I could only think of a certain toenail fungal infection when I looked at them.

And then Charlie put one up to his mouth.

Yep. The End. This is the point when the line was just crossed. We picked up the HOOF braclet, and sang:

“This is disturbing and slightly uncomfortable and we’re putting the music makers back in the plastic bin and we are outta here! Lafrickinglalal”

Actually that was when the 22 minutes was up, so I didn’t really sing that, but we did get to end the session with a bang by lining up and walking like a choo-choo train through the daycare center as we sang a choo-choo song and blew choo-choo whistles. Good Times.

Charlie looked up at me as we stood in the choo-choo line. We read each other minds. And then he took both of his chubby little hands and shook them in front of his face (sign language) and said “All Done?” and “Home?”. I hear ya little man, I hear ya.

I, too, would prefer a wrestle/tickle session, a good round of PlayDoh mashing, and some real music lessons. But, no doubt, I’ll be back in tribal Gymboree next week if only to make sure Charlie doesn’t pick his teeth with the toenail fungi dingo hoof.