Anyway, as we were heading out this morning to do the school run, Liliana said, “I get to go on a school bus today!” And then I thought crap. She has a field trip today. That parents are required to attend. And I am holding a baby in need of a nap.

Yesterday, Liliana’s teacher sent out an email, sent home a note, and told the parents verbally at the end of school. She also put it in the November newsletter I got a week or so ago and I marked it on the calendar. And I still forgot. Parent of the year, RIGHT HERE. I threw a couple diapers and some wipes in the diaper bag and off we went.

I soon found myself on a bus with about 25 pre-K kids and their parents, on our way to a gymnastics gym for the morning. The first activity involved sitting in a circle doing some gymnasticky moves. Parents, too. One of Liliana’s teachers, knowing of my surgery last week, sent me to sit on the bleachers and jumped in to be Liliana’s “parent” so that she wasn’t left out. (Recovery’s going well, but not that well.)

As much as I totally would have participated under normal circumstances because it would have meant the world to Liliana (I did the hokey pokey song with her ballet class a couple weeks ago) (a humbling experience), I found myself relieved that I did not have to participate. Is it horrible of me to admit that? It’s probably even more horrible that I feel that way, right?

It reminded me of when I first went back to work after having Liliana. I swapped kids with a friend of mine – I had her two kids one day a week, she had my one kid two days a week. It was a perfect setup, as I liked her kids and neither of us had to pay for childcare. Anyway, when we were first talking about it, one of us said something about not being the play-on-the-floor type of parent and the other of us was like, no problem! neither am I!

I never did the baby-and-me swimming/exercise classes, I only helped out in Kaylie’s classroom once (in my defense, it’s because I have always been either working or with a baby), and if Liliana wants to play toys, I suggest we do something else, which now, typing it, sounds really mean. (I don’t like where this post is going.)

But, I spend all of Preston’s waking (and, most of the time, non-waking) hours either holding him or within two feet of him, I rarely go out in the evenings because I’d rather hang out with my girls, and I’ve been starting one-on-one dates with each girl doing things we both like (pottery painting, geocaching, eating sugary things).

So is it okay that I was glad that I didn’t have to participate in the gymnasticky fun? Or am I trying to justify being a non-participatory parent?

(That was a rhetorical question.)

I do my best to be open-minded to new-to-me ideas, but there are a few I just cannot get on board with. My father-in-law introduced me to something new today. Baby yoga. Also known as dynastic gymnastics. Click on that pink link. I dare you to make it through the whole video without having to shut your eyes from sheer terror.

It’s been verified to be real; as in, the woman is using a real two-week-old baby. As I sat beside Russ and watched with Sue, Noah, and Taygan, I cringed, I gasped, I had to cover my eyes a couple times. When he suggested Noah and I do this with Three, I told Russ he was to come nowhere near his new grandchild. (He was kidding.) (I wasn’t.) (Don’t worry, we’ll supervise him.)

I’m thinking even Liliana is going to be gentler with her new brother or sister than that woman is with that baby. Also, I’m glad she’s all the way over in Russia so that I don’t have to have nightmares about my newborn flying through the air like a circus baby.

Now, to get the images in that video out of your head, look! A not-flying-through-the-air three-year-old! And her pony!

Did it work? Are you now thinking of rainbows and unicorns?