I took Chloe to her very first, organized playgroup at our local library this week.
It was an important milestone for Chloe (and for me) as it was the first time she’s participated in anything that didn’t involve waiting for one of her sisters to finish a lesson while she attempted to yank guitars off of a display wall and I questioned why they would hang instruments at perfect two year old grab & swing height. Or she would hang from cement handrails above the pool deck and I would wonder who the hell crafted bars with a fall-thru space the exact length of a two year old child?
Chloe and I, another mom and daughter anxiously awaited the room to fill and the creative play to begin. Just one other mom joined us so the three of us sat and sang songs about cinnamon sugar in a shaker, something, something you’re a baker and for the first time I wondered, have I outgrown playgroups?
When it came time for the marching band to shake plastic eggs filled with beans as we paraded around the room to Raffi’s “Jig jig jig-along, jig-along home” I wasn’t jigging along home with my previous enthusiasm for alliterative sing-song. What interested me was watching Chloe finally remove both hands from her mouth and smile.
In that instant I knew, this wasn’t about me, it was about her and she was nervous. The spotlight belonged not to her older sisters this time and she was trying to figure out where and how she fit into this group. If she should shake to jig and march to jig-along or wait until she made it home. And was she the cinnamon shaker or the friendly baker? Processing all of this was going to take time.
The change in scenery, new kids, an instructor, an organized session was all meant to introduce her to new challenges and that it did.
So what if the first time I joined these groups with Hanna, I was drum major in the marching band and harmonized when people sang, “Welcome Liz and Hanna on this rainy, cloudy morning” wearing a homemade, construction paper parade Grand Marshal’s cap?
Perhaps I’ve become calmer or maybe somewhere along the way I’ve learned this has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the kids…..and cinnamon……and jigging.
