If you’re like me, and totally ignorant to toddler activities then you’ve come to the right post. Because I have no idea what I’m doing.
I know nothing about sports. Or kids. Or kids in sports. Or parents in sports with kids.
I know nothing of competition. Or being competitive. Or living for the sole purpose of winning.
I didn’t view enrolling my toddler in gymnastics as the start of a future career toward Olympic athleticism. It was a reason to get out of the house. Also, my toddler running around with reckless abandon seemed more socially acceptable in a gym, rather than Olive Garden. If she got hurt I’d simply say she hit her head on the uneven bars, instead of a clothing rack at Target.
Even with little knowledge of children’s sports, I had some level of expectations. They weren’t wild and crazy expectations like: “You better do four flips off those rings before we go home.” They were more like: “Please don’t pick your nose. Or anyone else’s.”
What I expected: We would start at the stretching circle.
What happened: We never made it to the stretching circle. Not until the third week.
What I expected: My toddler would love learn to jump and tumble in new ways.
What happened: We are on a mission to touch every single item in the room. In twenty minutes. Including someone else’s grandparents.
What I expected: Rings would be so much fun to swing from.
What happened: The rings are not as fun as the water fountain. It has a button. And water.
What I expected: She would meet little friends.
What happened: She spends 70% of class running back and forth in front of the mirror smiling at herself.
What I expected: She would fall in love with gymnastics on the first day.
What happened: I have to coax her into the gym with gum.
What I expected: She would patiently wait her turn to go through the structured obstacle courses.
What happened: If it’s not her turn, she waits for five seconds. Then cuts into the middle of someone else’s obstacle course.
What I expected: She would learn balance.
What happened: She likes to crawl under the balance beam, and mew like a kitty.
What I expected: It would wear her out.
What happened: It’s the most exhausting thing I do on Wednesday mornings.
At least she hasn’t picked anyone’s nose. Yet.