"And by the way, Dylan's mom is kind of like a tiger when she's mad."
Quinton, in a serious, reflective admiring tone.
"Actually, she's REALLY like a tiger when she's mad."
We had this conversation driving home at 4am after I picked him up when he couldn't go back to sleep.
Quinton and I did Music Together classes when he was ages 1-3. I loved the classes, and he just ran laps around the circle of the other kids who were sitting docilely on their parents' laps. (What's up with those BORING kids?) I don't think Quinton sang a single word of any of the songs during our 2 years of weekly classes. Meanwhile, I learned all the songs obsessively, especially the ones in Spanish, and we read/sang all the song books together as bedtime books. Still, I persisted with the classes. My attitude was, "No way is this kid gonna ruin this for me." Kind of like, I could give in to the frustration and slight embarrassment and stop going, or I could stick it out. It just seemed better to stick it out. Now, to this day Q has awesome pitch and good memory of songs. I'm secretly hoping he'll be on Broadway. I mean, I highly doubt it, but I think it would be so cool to be the mom of a Broadway star. He also does that annoying thing I that I do, which is sing the same song over and over. I sang in college and in the Greenwich Choral Society, and I think it's one way singers get to know songs and get to practice what their voice can do. Kind of like doing drills for sports. Yup. No way this kid is gonna avoid singing.
At the beach Sunday, Quinton was sneaking up on our friend Parker, creeping closer as he moved from object to object. First he hid behind a pillar. Then, a tree. Then, his bike. Then, a Haitian man with no shirt, holding 2 styrofoam cups. Yes. My child was hiding behind a person. I watched the man looking perplexed, trying vaguely to get away from my child, but every time the man moved, so did Q.
Me to Q: "Did the man say anything to you?"
Q: "Yeah he said, 'They saw you.'"
We had another funny incident at the doctor's office a couple months ago. Quinton walked in, stopped directly in front of a teenage boy who had a tissue stuck up his bloody nose, stood there right in his face looking at him, then kept walking. Me, the boy and his mother all burst out laughing. Then when it was time to go and Quinton had to walk past the boy again, he closed his eyes. I said, "Did you just close your eyes so you couldn't see him?"
"Yes," he said.
Taekwondo:
Lane is taking Little Dragons Taekwondo once a week. It's actually just a private class. She's doing great.
I have, however, banned her from Saturday family class. She fell down constantly on purpose, got in the way of the other families, and just in general prevented me from enjoying class and doing anything for Q. Maybe when she's 4 I'll try her again.
Swimming:
Quinton is swimming and riding his bike so well. I'm excited because this means he can now do triathlons!
Quinton's swim instructor is Russian. I can't believe my child is actually enrolled in what I jokingly called the "Bela Karolyi School of Swimming" because of how strict Mikhail is and how serious the other 2 Russian instructors are. Now that my kid is taking lessons, I can see that the instruction is even more militant and... structured than I realized. Bela Karolyi indeed.
But I am happy with how he's doing and how he works with his teacher.
At the beginning of the summer, at the end of a lesson, Mikhail walked over to me and without any prelude, said, "Get him snorkel."
Me: "OK."
"Side snorkel. Not the front kind."
Me: "OK."
He walks off.
At the end of every lesson, Mikhail holds each kid over his head (like an ice skating pairs act, but in the water), then throws the kid. Then he lets each kid step off the side of the pool and stand on his shoulders until they fall off, like a circus act. A couple weeks ago he added a routine where stands beside the pool with the kid and says, "Wow wow wow," then shoves the kid into the pool. The kids EAT IT UP, clamoring like puppies to be next.