She has the makings of a real gymnast. At the ripe old age of 3, she already has that muscular triangular build that is so Mary Lou Retton-esque. So in an effort to give Vivie the foundation to become a gold medal gymnast should she so desire later on, George and I had decided to enroll her in a gymnastics class this summer but then her friend, Reed, who is very much her male counterpart to her wild child ways, invited her to attend his gymnastics class for Bring a Friend Day. Well, I was pretty excited at the prospect of getting a sneak preview of my girl in action and of course, I was certain that the instructors would take one look at my little powerhouse and offer her a scholarship to their program because surely, she is Olympic bound.
So the morning of our big day (I'll admit I may have had just a small sip of the Stage Mom Tea), I dug out a hand-me-down blue sparkly and velvet leotard, dressed Vivie, and pulled her hair up cheerleader style. Again, I admit to having sampled the Stage Mom Tea. We made our way to the gym where I filled out the necessary "We Are Not Responsible If Your Olympic Bound Child Breaks Every Talented Bone in Her Body During Our Session" paperwork and proceeded to wait for Reed's arrival and let's be honest...for someone to acknowledge how Vivie is built just like a miniature Olympian, a Mini-Nadia, if you will. Reed arrived but not the acknowledgement that my girl was indeed ready to take the gold.
In my efforts to prepare Vivie for class, I left out one detail, however minor. I failed to mention to her what exactly we were doing. I had simply told her that she and Reed would get to play together. Again, I am not sure how I managed to drop the ball on this one, but alas, I did. Class was getting ready to start, so all the kids (and there were a bunch because after all, it was Bring A Friend Day) lined up at the door that leads to the gymnasium and all the parents, myself included, headed upstairs to the observation room. Oh yeah, seeing as how I only told Vivie that she would be playing with Reed, I also didn't mention that I would be upstairs. Vivie, who was completely enthralled with Reed and feeding off the excitement of all of the other kiddos, was completely unaware that I had left her immediate vicinity. The gymnasium door swung open and the kids burst into the wide open space filled with trampolines, rings, parallel bars and all that jazz. There was a fury of excitement and laughter as the two college age male instructors shouted, "RUN!" From the observation room, I saw a sea of children take off running for the other side of the room at which point, I expected to see Vivie right in the middle of the group if not towards the front (she is Olympic bound, you know). When Vivie heard, "RUN," she looked over her shoulder to see that not only was I not there, but none of the mommies were there. I can only imagine that she was wondering what kind of monster must have snatched up all the mommies, caused those two big guys to yell, "RUN," and scared all of her newfound friends to take off screaming. Well, Vivie started to wail and darted after the kids, trying to catch up with the other survivors. When she reached the group, they turned to run back from whence they came, leaving her in their dust. She then ran back to the starting point, tears streaming down her face, as she continued to wail, " I want my mommy! Where is my mommy?" She spent the next 35 minutes curled up in my lap refusing to participate until the last 10 minutes of class. Not exactly the first impression I hoped she would make. Those last 10 minutes were all I needed to see to know that we will indeed be back and hopefully next time, she will enjoy the whole session. If the road to the Olympics is paved with blood, sweat, and tears, Vivie may have just taken her first steps, however timid, onto that road.
In my efforts to prepare Vivie for class, I left out one detail, however minor. I failed to mention to her what exactly we were doing. I had simply told her that she and Reed would get to play together. Again, I am not sure how I managed to drop the ball on this one, but alas, I did. Class was getting ready to start, so all the kids (and there were a bunch because after all, it was Bring A Friend Day) lined up at the door that leads to the gymnasium and all the parents, myself included, headed upstairs to the observation room. Oh yeah, seeing as how I only told Vivie that she would be playing with Reed, I also didn't mention that I would be upstairs. Vivie, who was completely enthralled with Reed and feeding off the excitement of all of the other kiddos, was completely unaware that I had left her immediate vicinity. The gymnasium door swung open and the kids burst into the wide open space filled with trampolines, rings, parallel bars and all that jazz. There was a fury of excitement and laughter as the two college age male instructors shouted, "RUN!" From the observation room, I saw a sea of children take off running for the other side of the room at which point, I expected to see Vivie right in the middle of the group if not towards the front (she is Olympic bound, you know). When Vivie heard, "RUN," she looked over her shoulder to see that not only was I not there, but none of the mommies were there. I can only imagine that she was wondering what kind of monster must have snatched up all the mommies, caused those two big guys to yell, "RUN," and scared all of her newfound friends to take off screaming. Well, Vivie started to wail and darted after the kids, trying to catch up with the other survivors. When she reached the group, they turned to run back from whence they came, leaving her in their dust. She then ran back to the starting point, tears streaming down her face, as she continued to wail, " I want my mommy! Where is my mommy?" She spent the next 35 minutes curled up in my lap refusing to participate until the last 10 minutes of class. Not exactly the first impression I hoped she would make. Those last 10 minutes were all I needed to see to know that we will indeed be back and hopefully next time, she will enjoy the whole session. If the road to the Olympics is paved with blood, sweat, and tears, Vivie may have just taken her first steps, however timid, onto that road.
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