Preschool Volleyball Class

Last month, our neighbor Anne, invited Rebecca to join her daughter Jonna at her weekly volleyball class. "Can three- and four-year olds play volleyball?" I asked her. Anne explained that it was a preschool exercise/play class that fell under the umbrella of Liederbach's Volleyball Club. The next Monday, Rebecca and I walked to the building where the class was held, ignorant of the fact that I was about to be reminded that I was American and even after two years of living here, I still could not predict how we should have prepared for a preschool volleyball class.

We walked into the room and all the kids immediately began disrobing. Little boys and little girls stripped down to their underwear and then pulled a new set of pants, shirt and sneakers out of their drawstring sports bag. Oh yeah, and a water bottle, too.  Rebecca and I had brought nothing. I should have thought to bring a water bottle, but the class was only one hour long (it would become 1½ hours the next month) and it was only a 10-minute walk home. A thirsty Becca would survive until she got home.

And I laughed to myself about all the kids changing clothes. Why? How dirty can little kids get running around a gym? Surely Becca's khakis and shirt would be fine. Did she really need a special sports outfit?  It brought to mind how we had Emilie's last birthday party at an indoor playplace and how one dad showed up with his son, and right away had him change into a different set of clothing. When he came back two hours later, he had his son change back into the first set of clothes, explaining to us that he didn't want his son's sweat getting on his car's seats. It seemed a little excessive to us. Would his seven-year old's sweat leave an unsightly stain or burn a hole in his car's backseat?

I quick ran to a nearby store and bought Becca a juice box so that I wouldn't be viewed as a neglectful mom. That's based on experience. I left again so as not to distract Bex.

And as often happens here, I was eating crow half an hour later.  When I returned, the kids were having a great time playing a game with the teacher and her two 16-year old helpers. At the end of the class, all the kids laid down on their tummies in a circle, sang a song and got a stamp on their hands. And then Becca stood up. As she did so, about 1/4 cup of sand that had settled in the cuff of her khakis during recess at Kindergarten came spilling out onto the floor. One of the helpers yelped, "Ahhhh! Who brought the sand?" The teacher made of point of telling me, "She needs to bring a different set of clothes and shoes, exercise clothes and shoes, please." It was all starting to make sense.

Before the next week, I dutifully went to the store, bought a drawstring sports bag, a water bottle and a new pair of sneakers dedicated to the volleyball class. I drew the line at buying new exercise pants and a shirt. Becca had plenty of leggings and shirts to choose from. We go to class every week and Becca strips down and changes the minute she gets there.

And a few weeks later, I was walking Rebecca and Jonna to class on a very rainy day and Jonna took a tumble. Her jeans got soaking wet during those few seconds on the ground. Never fear.  Jonna had a dry pair of pants to put on once we got inside and I could hang her what would have been uncomfortably wet jeans up to dry out a bit before I returned to fetch them. Plus, all the kids would have clean, dry shoes to wear on the new gym floor.

Point taken.