I‘ve never really been a bitch just to be a bitch. I am straightforward and honest and this might sometimes be to the point of pain, but most often I am just a nice, likeable gal, and I’d say over the past 3.4 years as a mother I’ve become nicer and increasingly likeable.
I’m also quicker to bite your head off, and if you attended “dance” class at The Boston Center for Adult Education back in October 2010 put on by a partner company called “Upon a Star” (not linked on purpose) you’d have seen the wrath of me.
At 18 months of age Liron (pictured touching an electrical outlet covered with masking tape) did not speak and did not follow directions like “Now jump through the hoop, then hop on one foot and roll over.” Neither did her classmates. This class, in the most simple terms, was a crock of shit. The musical choices, presumably of the young teacher who claimed to have a child but we’re all convinced otherwise, were Lynyrd Skynyrd and Johnny Cash, among others. There was little to no dancing. Beyond the ridiculous music (for that age group) and instructions no one could understand, was the hilarious conversation between the teacher and one of the students, Berit. It went like this.
Teacher: “Berit, what are you going to be for Halloween?”
Me: (whispering to Jenna. Snarky as hell.) “Berit doesn’t talk yet.” (giggles all around)
The straw that broke the camel’s back was when Liron needed a diaper change. Now any respectable venue for emerging toddlers would have had a diaper changer in the restroom. Nope. Not something Upon a Star thought up, these childless terrorists. “We ask parents to change their children in their strollers.” Now, if you’re not a parent this won’t evoke the rage, harsh ridicule, and otherwise that it will with a parent. Strollers are a motherfucker, there’s no way around it. You can’t simply put a stroller in recline position and then simply expect to put it back to 90 degrees without spending at least 45 minutes and breaking a sweat. This teacher truly did not have a child. No chance in hell.
I was not nice to her. That’s what Jenna told me. Jenna is pictured below with Liron, trying very hard to have fun. She said to me after we left class “You were not very nice.” I wasn’t nice. I wasn’t nice to the teacher and I was very clear with how I felt to the staff at BCAE, who I don’t blame for this fiasco. And Jenna wasn’t upset with me either. She was amused by my bluntness and I think she was happy I was the spokesperson for the class. Right Jenna? The thought of signing up for a series of classes with an organization that claims to understand children, including the appropriate things to do according to a child’s stage of development, and then totally f-ing it up enrages me. Imagine leaving your kid with a totally incompetent babysitter? It makes you want to shake the imposter, am I right?
At the end of class our svelte young teacher/mom-imposter began to read a book in a voice that can only be described as monotone. One by one kids walked away and found something else to do. My inner preschool teacher cried and laughed at the same time.
Note to all the imposters out there. Don’t do it. I will sniff you out and I will confront you. Working with kids is a wonderful thing – you must be qualified to do it. This isn’t really JUST about dancing, is it?