September 30, 2016

Dear Baby,

In my past life, I would have spent today visiting the new Uniqlo storey hat just opened downtown to buy some cheap yet awesome jeans. In this life we went to a “baby drumming class.” Basically the same in terms of coolness and fun for me. 

What can I tell you about baby drumming? It was pretty awful. I’m just going to say that if you don’t like kids, don’t teach a baby drumming class. The instructor had the personality of a baby hating mop. When you curiously picked up her music sheet I thought she was going to smack you in the head. 

The drums themselves are truly precious instruments. You can’t sit on them, you can’t stand up with them, you can’t drink near them and you MUST follow a beat.  Well, you kids are one. One. Can you follow a beat? Yesterday you flung a diaper of poo at your own head so- a full drum beat might be slightly beyond your scope of talents. 

Also precious drums, babies are so messy. If you can’t take the mess, get out of the baby class. Amiright?

The good news is that your friends are in the class and you get to hang with them. The bad news is that if you make too much noise or move too far away from me I’m pretty sure the teacher is going to turn into a demon monster and bite your fucking head off. 

Here’s some advice in lieu of that. Don’t work in a field where you hate your life. Everyone can tell when someone is miserable and you will suck at your job. Try and find something that at the very least, you can bear doing. You’ll be way better off (and a lot less terrifying.)

xo

Mom