Adventures in Gymnastics

We hit a new milestone: Ben started his very first gymnastics class today. It was a major success on many levels, and it gave me a brand new perspective on....well, me. First let me just say he was wonderful and so adorable and nervous and shy at first and then won his coach's heart over in 3.5 minutes flat. That's my boy!

Some background: When I walked into the gym this morning to register him for a class that was about to begin in 15 minutes, I was under the impression that we were signing up for one of those "Mommy & Me" classes, the kind where you talk your child through every-little-thing and make sure they're listening and using manners and being friendly and not picking their nose and not peeing in their pants, etc. But a minor mis-communication took me by surprise and sort of left me hanging when his coach (read: STRANGER) walked up to Ben, introduced herself and grabbed him by his chubby little hand, and walked him onto the gym floor. Without me. The veil had clearly been drawn- she closed the little half-door behind her, which is really just a polite way of saying to parents, "You! Sit! Stay back! Your kid is fine, and he's all mine for the next 45 minutes. You get to watch the whole thing from those really uncomfortable bleacher seats. So sit down and relax."

So I'm practically kneeling at the half-door instead of sitting in the designated parent spectator seats because it brings me a good 4 feet closer to the action, where I am desperately trying to read every word that comes out of this coach's mouth. And I'm watching my little guy trying to figure this whole thing out, and I'm seeing how uncomfortable and confused he is, and I'm literally biting my tongue from blurting out something really obnoxious like, "Mommy's right here! Here I am, baby! Listen to your teacher! Make good choices! Put your listening ears on! Mommy's so proud of you!" And then I look around and realize all the other moms and dads are casually sitting around chatting and enjoying the time and trusting their child to do the right thing, and all in a matter of 5 minutes, I'VE BECOME THAT CRAZY, WACKY MOM. The one we've all seen, and probably had a stern little internal dialogue with. The one who we probably roll our eyes at and maybe even tell our friends or husbands about later at dinner. Uh, yeah. That was me.

They begin their stretching exercises, and of course to me, this looks like a true Kodak moment that needs to be captured all on camera. Second by second. I'm just snapping photos like it's my job, when suddenly Coach Chris (STRANGER) casually looks up and sees me in my motherly hysteria and what do I do???? I NERVOUSLY GIGGLE AND WAVE TO HER! Like she was looking for me and finally caught me, and just wanted to send a friendly hello my way. Like she doesn't have anything better to do with her time. Oh, the horror. It was then that she took the little gymnasts alllllllllllll the way to the other side of the gym and basically remained there for the duration of the class. Coincidence? I think not.

So Ben does pretty amazing- lots of somersaults, trampoline jumping, balance beam & hanging on a bar with your hands & toes type of work. My independent little 3 year old doesn't miss me for one second, doesn't even think to look for me until he was somewhat nearby and I cheated and yelled out, "Good job, baby!" It was precious to watch and melted my heart to see how incredibly excited he was to be a part of something so active. And I could tell, even from 50 feet away that he is not only listening, but completely engrossed with Coach Chris. And what starts happening? My heart wells up and my eyes get all misty. Of course. How can my baby be so big- big enough to do all these exciting and dangerous things without me? Now I'm The Mom who's cheerfully yelling and camera happy one minute, and crying the next. What is this emotional roller coaster that gymnastics has taken us (me) on?

It's funny because as a preschool teacher and director in my previous life (pre-mommyhood), I was around this scene every single day. I could easily pin-point those moms- the ones who were fairly emotionally attached to their kids, the ones who needed to learn a thing or two about the letting go process that I learned all about in my dozens of Early Childhood Education classes. Well, apparently today was a day for a crash course lesson in "You Can't Really Understand Until You've Been There Yourself", or that wonderful little book, I Was a Really Good Mom Before I Had Kids. As it turns out, all those years of E.C.E. classes and experiences really didn't prepare me for my life as a mom. I mean- sure, I learned a whole lot about child safety, and if a child is choking and in need of help, I'm your gal. You need help understanding the laws and protocol for running a preschool, I'm there. But saying goodbye to your baby as he walks away with some strange woman to go and have fun WITHOUT YOU? Brutal. Why do I have a feeling I'll have the same distinct sentiment come prom, 2023?

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