I like moving, I really do. I know, that makes me weird. But aside from the fact that moving seems like a vacation paid for out of the ever-so-gracious pocket of Uncle Sam, moving also allows me something particularly necessary after a few years (or sometimes a few months) in one spot.
The ability to start over where people don't know me, my family, or our... um... "issues" is a God Send.
Case in point - today's incident at Little Gym. Which I will be happy to leave behind.
My son just turned 5 two weeks ago, and he is really not ready for organized sports yet. However, he has a huge amount of energy that he likes to direct into quite troublesome pursuits if I don't think of creative ways to burn it off.
Enter Little Gym. Little Gym has a Sports Skills class for 4 - 6 year olds. They learn fundamentals, and most importantly, they learn how to behave appropriately in a team environment before some poor volunteer has to deal with my son's hyper personality.
Last week was my son's first class. To my utter horror, he spent the entire circle portion of class with his hands down the front of his pants. Now, he's been getting better about this, but he does require constant reminding. I've been told that it's not really something that goes away with age.
I was so embarrassed, and I couldn't even remind him to remove the offending hand. The Little Gym class takes place in a sound-proof room where parents aren't allowed! Now, I'm not a prude, and I'm not trying to create a complex or anything; but I AM trying to teach my children standards of acceptable public behavior. And that is just not one of them.
I spent the last week between the first class and today's class trying to drill into my son's head that it is simply not polite to touch there in public. It is just not done. And furthermore (I told this to my husband, who thought it all much ado about nothing in the world of boys), my son was lucky that I was even willing to be seen again in that Little Gym location!
So, after a week of memory drills "Do we touch our p***is in public?" "No, Momma!" I thought he had it down pat. I thought it would be okay.
Then I took my son to Little Gym and watched as he so cutely took off his shoes and socks and excitedly lined up with the other children. He was clapping and smiling and so happy!
And then he told his teacher (at the top of his lungs, of course, because my kids don't have volume control), "I'm not going to touch my p***is today during Little Gym!"
We need to PCS now. NOW. It's time.
