Another mapping is running...

This afternoon I witnessed some parenting that totally blew me away.

The girls had just finished their playball class (they're in different classes which luckily are held simultaneously, on adjacent courts), the next session was beginning, and we were about to head for the library. I love the playball hour. Danny and I get to camp out on the picnic blanket on the grassy bank and read, cuddle, roll the ball around, and eat chocolate muffins.

When Robyn first started playball, she was three, and she joined the youngest class. Now, however, they've had the bright idea of starting a class for two-year-olds. Two mothers had brought their toddlers, and were making themselves comfortable and settling down to watch. Unfortunately, however, the toddlers were completely beside themselves. They were screaming uncontrollably. One little girl in particular broke my heart. She was terrified. The look on her face was total panic, total hysteria, as the playball coach carried her away from her mother, who watched all this completely unmoved. What on earth are they doing this for? What can they possibly think their kids are getting out of this experience? "Don't be a baby, darling!" said the mother. God above, she IS a baby!

Robyn was almost in tears observing all this going on. I had to restrain myself from getting involved. But I'm going to have a word with the person who runs it next week. Forcing children like that is so totally against the spirit of the whole thing. I kept waiting for either the coaches or the mothers to suggest the obvious - either let the children go back to their mothers, or have the mothers do the class with their children (some people do this, and the coaches don't mind at all). It was like a bad dream that went on and on. Finally we just left. The two children were still crying. I wish now I had spoken up.