We have some very interesting characters in our lives- you’ve met a few of them as guest bloggers. Therefore, it has come to light that I need to actually blog about my guest bloggers. From this day forward, Guest Bloggers, you shall receive your intro blog…
My post requires the formal introduction of my guest blogger, “Mama” (the general public knows her as Kelly Magill). Many moons ago, in Tallahassee, she first arrived in my life as my neighbor. We were an unlikely friendship- She, a proper Southern Belle native Tallahassean and Me, a snarky Southern fried Yankee hybrid. We quickly bonded after her twins and my Oldest were born- enjoying Champagne and gossip infused happy hours while our children beat each other with whatever we purchased that day from the Target Dollar Bins. Soon, when she deemed me acceptable enough (it was a tough call- I refused to dress my boys’ in smocked clothes or wear flip flops with my monogram), and introduced me to her other Mommy friends. It was Sara and Monica who joined us to venture down the new path that is motherhood…with one most notable pitstops- KINDERMUSIK!
Our children were just a few months old when we enrolled them in Kindermusik, christened Kinderscam once my husband received the bill. Once a week for 45 minutes our children would get their Mensa training through listening to Hickory Dickory Dock and licking egg shakers. Miss Christine was their teacher and begin each class with her sweet tea water bottle in hand- after the first class, I was fairly certain there was crushed up ampthetamine particles floating about. My friends and I were usually nursing down grande triple tall non fat lattes as this was our first rodeo of sleepless nights. Miss Christine, “bless her heart”, as she was, was very hard to follow in her boundless enthusiasm. I mean, can you imagine keeping a straight face while this woman sang “Ride the Cock-horse” or “Baaaalls away! Time to put your dirty balls away!” “Don’t put dirty balls in your mouth”? It was especially fun to see our modest friend Sara turn crimson with all the dirty ball talk.
Today- my morning was filled with nostalgia…I took The Nosy Meap to her 1st “Makin’ Music” class. (Please note she is 1 years old, whereas her brother’s were veterans of music class by this age.) The instructor of Makin Music was not who caught my attention, she was fairly cool, singing the “Freebird of Makin Music”… but it the ANM (Annoying New Mom) to my right had me over the edge. Now that I have my 3rd, and almost all of my friends have at least 1 child (or 1 in utero), I have not been aware of the ANM for sometime. I have forgotten what ANM are like as I am not surrounded by any. I am just too busy trying not to get blacklisted by my Oldests’ PTO’s for not volunteering enough. For 45 minutes, I had to endure ANM point out how much her 16 month old was signing. UGH. How she understood how to give her Mommy just 1 music stick…double UGH. Everytime her daughter did something she perceived as brilliant, we all had to hear, (use your philly/chesco county accent ears) “Em-ma. That was ver-ry good! Love-you!” Rule of thumb- if your baby is still using a diaper, don’t fill out your Harvard app just yet.