Ode to a baby yogi

It’s funny how children react to new situations differently.  Take the first day of daycare.  J., my oldest, cried all day and refused to eat.  R., my middle child and only girl, sat in a chair in the rear of the room all day, refusing to even take off her coat .  And then there’s the youngest, A.  On his first day , I was required to accompany him  for several hours.  I didn’t think this was a good idea, but I complied.

I must say, the morning was like circuit training for tots.  Within 2 hours we had finger pinted, pottied (twice), played outdoors on the playgournd (down the stairs and across the campus) enjoyed free play with toys of our choice, and (GASP) attempted baby yoga.  Prior to that morning, I must say that I was thrilled at the idea of my over-the-top tot finding his inner zen in baby yoga class.  And then the class happened.

The mats spread on the floor, each toddler took his place on his/her mat.  “Be a mouse,” the instructor chanted and curled herself up and “peeped”.  The other children imitated.  My toddler stared, a bewildered expression on his face that I had never experienced.  “A snake,” she offered, “Be a snake” and she stretched and hissed.  The other children imitated.  My toddler chuckled and lay down on his tummy, head in his hands, as though enjoying a funny movie.

“Be a cat,” the instructor suggested and purred and meowed.  “MEOW!  MEOW!  MEOW!!” my toddler A. yelped as he began to roll around the floor as though he was a feline on fire — stop, drop and roll style.  “Be a dog, ” she suggested.  Some of the other children imitated her moves.  Others continued to watch my child, amused by his antics.  This was not going well.  “WOOF!  WOOF! WOOF!  WOOF!  WOOF!!” A. shouted as he got up and started running around the room, leaping over his dog-doing classmates, faking out the teacher-tacklers with the speed and agility of the most accomplished NFL running backs.  The other children chanted; some even joined in the parade.  He was now running with 3 teachers trying to grab and sit him down, a trail of giggling toddlers running behind him.  From across the room, I could see his frightened experession as the tears started to roll down his cheeks.  This was really not going well.

I sat at the door and held my head, waiting for the inevitable.  In an instant, my toddler charged past, crying, chased by a teacher and several classmates.  He ran out the room, down the stairs and out the building.  I ran after the parade and caught up with A. running toward Wisconsin Avenue.  When I finally calmed the confused yogi, I sat him on my lap and asked where he was going.  “I’m going catch the bus,” he replied, “I scared of the animals.”  I must say I understood.  The mouse, the snake, the cat and the dog living in harmony in one baby yoga class was too much even for me, a veteran practitioner.

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