Ana has the energy of a wild road runner. She legitimately will destroy everything if she doesn't have an outlet, which leaves me investigating high energy activities for her. So when I saw that our local YMCA had a tumble time once a week for 45 minutes, I figured it would be a good add on for our twice a week swimming sessions. (I wasn't joking, we'll be that family with a sport every day out of necessity, not because we're over achievers.) So I paid up for it.
I should have known from the first class how it was going to go. Maybe it's just me because this pregnancy has me irritable AF, but the class was chaos. The teacher let the kids run all over destroying an obstacle course and didn't try to keep any control over the kids. There might have been a collision or two, but hey, we signed a concussion waiver in the "highly unlikely, but we can't actually make promises because hey, kids," event that one of our kids whacked their noggins.
It was starting to seem more likely.
It all came to a chaotic crescendo though the past two classes when one heathen spawn decided to spread her mischievous and slightly terrifying wings though.
We all know "that one kid," and some of you who have had your children grow and fly might still even recall "that one kid" because that's how awful they behaved. We've nicknamed this little girl the Tumble Time Terror. Why, might you ask, would I come up with a nickname not-so-nice for a child? Well, take last week for example. When Mother Terror tells Tiny Terror not to go get water and Tiny Terror goes bolting across the gym from an in-session class anyways, Mother Terror gives a "you can't say no to everything!" speech. Oh, no.
And when Mother Terror is nowhere to be found because she's off jogging with her friend and leaving the very unsuccessful and lack luster teach to control Tiny Terror, Tiny Terror decides it's the perfect time to shove a little boy who then lays on his belly crying, while Tiny Terror butt slams his back. (This family hasn't come back.)
Or, like yesterday, Tiny Terror stands 4 inches from Chris' face staring at him and then asks "Why do you have those on your neck?" and proceeds to stare at Chris at an uncomfortably close distance for a solid 45 seconds.
That is why I call her the Tumble Time Terror. BUT. I've made the title of this post plural. Why? Because the Mom is sooooo totally a terror too.
As a parent, I 10000000% have had poor parenting days. As a child, Ana 1000000000% has had days when she behaves like a child who was raised by squirrels with rabies. On either of those days though, Ana knows to respect other peoples bodies and personal space.
As a parent, you have a duty to teacher your child not to be an asshole and although we all have bad days, once a week for four weeks seems a little too coincidental for bad days.
So from one parent to any adult raising or who may raise spawn in the future, please teach your kids not to be little assholes. Please.