During the six months I took off of work after having my son, I was a regular at the Center for Yoga in Larchmont Village, and when that just wasn't enough, I would also go to Golden Bridge and attend Gurmukh's class. I always preferred the energy at the Center for Yoga, however, so that was my preference. But now that Center for Yoga is owned by Yogaworks, it doesn't seem like it would be the same. Plus, the concept of Mommy and Me Pilates, as opposed to Yoga, was intriguing. . .
I knew that Golden Bridge had moved since I used to attend classes on 3rd Street, down the street from the Grove. But I was not prepared for the massive complex that is now the Golden Bridge "Spiritual Village." When you enter, there is a roped off line, of the type normally seen only at banks and amusement parks, to see the cashier. I stood in the back of the line and sneaked peaks at the other women. About half of them had babies too, so I knew who would be joining me in class. We were surrounded by items for sale, as the majority of Golden Bridge now seems to be a store. There is even a restaurant section where a friend of mine from high school was having lunch and yelled out to me in amazement, "Is that you?!"
When I reached the front of the line, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that I am still in their "system" after all these years, so I did not have to fill out any paperwork. I paid my $16 and was about to walk off. Then a lady behind me asked how old my daughter is. I said "two months." Apparently, this was not specific enough, as she then asked if my daughter was exactly "8 weeks or what?" I thought it was weird that she cared so much about how many weeks she is, but then assumed maybe she wanted to compare her child to mine, as so many parents, unfortunately, seem determined to do. So to be polite I said, "I don't know how many weeks she is. She was born May 22nd." Sure enough, she advised me that her baby was born May 17, so she was out to compare our children. To my surprise, however, it was not to marvel at my daughter's size or development. Instead, it was to begin berating her baby and telling him how my baby was so much better because she is a "quiet baby" and "See how good babies act? Why can't you be a good baby like that?" Her son, who had been quietly listening at the time, began to bawl in response to this unprovoked public humiliation. The lady at the register told Mother of the Year that she shouldn't have said that--kind of like how people knock on wood in order not to jinx themselves. I was much more disturbed at the message she was sending her child and told her she shouldn't say things like that because our babies can understand us. I then walked off to class.
Class was interesting. Aside from being a great workout, I was struck by how truly amazing my daughter is. The entire class was full of screaming babies that could not be consoled. It was impossible to concentrate on the workout because the screaming was so loud and I was worried that it would scare my daughter or start her going. But to my surprise, she remained true to herself throughout the class. She acted just like she normally does. She never cried out once. She sort of grunted a little when she was uncomfortable or hungry and I attended to her needs before she became upset. I looked around and other mothers were nursing their babies, or rocking them, or walking them around in their arms--while the babies screamed. It is one thing to hear comments from people about how good my baby is or to read about how many babies cry for no reason and cannot be stopped, but it is another to actually see it firsthand. It was awful. I don't think I could live with that. Fortunately for me, neither of my children have ever cried like that. They both only fussed if they had an identifiable need to be met and as soon as I met that need, or more accurately, as soon as they observed me taking action to attempt to identify the need, they stopped fussing immediately.
I was really proud of my baby girl as I walked out. I smiled at Mother of the Year and said goodbye. As I walked out, I heard her telling her son over his screaming, "See. That is a good baby. Why can't you be like that. . ."
I then went over to the restaurant portion of the complex and ordered an avocado sandwhich and iced green tea. As I waited for my order, my daughter fell asleep in my arms and I thought about how lucky I am to have such a wonderful little baby girl. . .
1 comment:
Ahhhh! She is a good baby!
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