Yeah I really hate this class, hate this class, hate this class. Yeah I really hate this class please just shoot me.

We signed Miloh up for a music class that started early winter. It was to the good place in town.

When Staci asked if I was excited I really couldn't answer... I think I said "I guess so."

It's because I hadn't really thought of what the class would be like... but then the night before the class I got a picture of what it would be in my head. It was going to be filled with lots of cool percussion instruments and world music.

I was wrong.

If you've been to a toddler music class you know what they are like. They're completely different from my vision. It was a bright white room that looked like any room. It was stocked with all sorts of instruments but nothing special.

You probably know where this is going... and hopefully could figure that out by the title of the post. I'm not saying the classes are bad for all folks... but it was a super painful for me.

I realized I wasn't going to dig it once we started the activities. Each one would start with a transition song... not sure if that's what you'd call it but that's what I'm going with.

There was a fifty percent said song would be to the tune of London Bridges, a forty-nine percent chance it would be to Good Night Ladies and a one percent chance it would be to another song.

Who am I kidding it would be a straight 50/50 split.

Let's get out the rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks. Let's get out the rhythm sticks right now kiddos. 

or

Bang the drum kids, bang the drum kids, bang the drum kids and dance around right now. 

I'm not knocking the sticks or the drum... I actually really like the rhythm sticks, we bought a pair for Miloh, and the drum, he has one that he smiled bigger than I've ever seen when he first saw it. I just couldn't stand the activities. Oh... and I'm not a singer. In elementary school when we had to sing in our yearly event I wouldn't even pretend to move my lips. Still to this day I just mumble happy birthday if I'm forced to.

Miloh was on the same page I was with the class. While he liked the instruments he had other things to do... hug every kid in class, steal pacifiers from kids when we got rid of his, stick his hands in the electrical sockets.

That last one sounds more dangerous than it is because the sockets had been child-proof... but he, like most kids, is like a moth to a flame with shiny metal sockets.

Once Miloh started walking, after his third class, it got worse. He just wanted to run around and have fun. The problem is you have some arents in classes like that who don't think kids should be kids. He was having fun, not really disrupting anyone, but he was being judged... let's be honest, we were being judged.

The one thing the class had for it was each section was only about two minutes long. That seems about right for my attention span early on a Saturday morning.

So we dropped the class which is a great lesson for Miloh. If the going gets tough just run away because it's easier.

We enrolled him in one of those gym classes.

It's so much better for him, Staci and me. He can run around all he wants. They want him in circle time but if he's having fun no one cares what he's doing. Plus Staci was a gymnast, I truly apologize that I have no pics available, and I alway s wanted to to gymnastics, but my father didn't want me to because I think he though it would make me gay.

I'd love him to get in to gymnastics. Maybe not professionally because they are really hard on themselves when they mess up. But it can translate into biking and of course snowboarding... and we all know he's going to be a pro who supports us with his crazy huge winnings.

So I don't see any music classes in his future. I can see him playing the drums... although it would kill Staci and me because we both grew up with older siblings who drummed (if that's a word) and the drum kit can get painful after awhile.

And let's pretend this sentence wraps everything up in a nice little package better than that last one did.