Ms. Libby Sucks

Ms. Libby Sucks

I, like many Mom’s, have fallen in love with Groupon.com/Livingsocial.com- Imagine my excitement when I saw a class for children in Greenwich being offered for only $49 for four classes!  I assembled a small mommy group and we signed up.  

I should have known this was probably too good to be true- I’ve spent literally over two thousand (shh, don’t tell my husband) dollars on ridiculous classes for Hayden.  She’s gone to a private ballet school for two year olds (in my defense, they had mandatory cute uniforms)… She’s belonged to a kids gym long before she could walk… She’s taken art classes… Story groups before she could talk… Gymnastics… The list goes on and on.  So, this class, at only $49 sounded affordable and fun. 

The moment I walked into the class (after sitting in traffic for a full 50 minutes to get there), I knew I was in trouble.  The teacher introduced herself but I didn’t hear a word she said.  All I could do was keep staring at her outfit.  She had on this dress that she clearly bedazzled herself with glitter glue and buttons.  At that moment, I named her Ms. Libby (clearly from the Billy Madison movie with Adam Sandler).  I would not remember or ever hear her real name again.  You always hear about how actors “test chemistry” with each other before they are hired- and I’ve been in interview situations where I had to “test chemistry”- so I know how it works.  And I immediately knew that Ms. Libby and I did not have good chemistry. 

I have a problem with teachers who have overly high expectations for their two year old students- and a double standard too.  Why in a million years, would you lay out tons of instruments and then demand that the children do not touch them?  To me, that’s like pouring a deliciously frozen extra dirty Grey Goose martini- then telling me not to drink it.  It just doesn’t make sense.  There were several situations like these over the never ending class. 

Apparently Ms. Libby plays favorites because when a rowdy three year old boy ran at me, full force, and cracked his large head into my crotch, she smiled… and his mother said nothing.  It hurt.  Really.  How embarrassing, I was just head-butted in my lady parts and I have to smile and pretend that I really want to teach my kid how to count to ten in French.  Let’s be honest, no one here in America, unless your family is from France, really needs to know French.  Not for nothing, I’m more concerned about Hayden learning how to count in English first- then obviously Spanish. 

So at this point, I strongly dislike Ms. Libby and I plain hate the mom of the boy who tried to make me unable to have any more children.  “Oh, he’s so spirited!” Ms. Libby says- Spirited?  Is that what we’re calling bad now?  I kept my mouth shut.  So Mr. Spirit then decides it’s a good idea to throw his maracas right at our heads.  Hayden, being the follower she is (I’m working on fixing this), also immediately throws her maracas too.  Mr. Spirits mom says nothing- I turn thirteen shades of red and grab Hayden.  We have a “talk” in the corner.  Mr. Spirit get’s a little too physical with all the smaller children and twice sits on Hayden.  No word from Ms. Libby (who at this point is rolling around on the ground singing about lady bugs)- No discipline from Mom.

The last straw comes when Mr. Spirit begins to throw rocks at the animals in the courtyard.  Hayden grabs a handful of rocks and joins in on trying to kill the poor chickens.  I grab her and tell her not to ever do anything that the boys are doing- Well, that finally got a reaction from Ms. Libby.  I was told that I was going to raise my daughter to be inferior to men.

Really?

Because I thought I was teaching my kid how to behave like a normal child that wasn’t going to grow up to be a serial killer.  But that’s just me.

I never went back to that class.  They can keep my $49.  From now on, I will stick to buying restaurant vouchers on Groupon.