Every Thursday, I take Maddie to gymnastics class. She really enjoys it.
Every Thursday, it is chaos and confusion as one class ends at the precise moment the next one begins. Kids entering and exiting everywhere, moms yelling, coats and boots flying. I hold my kids close, afraid they’ll got lost in the commotion.
Every Thursday, I try to keep Katie occupied for a solid hour while we watch gymnastics class from the viewing balcony. Snacks, juice, crayons, iPad, magnets, books. We cycle through my bag of tricks, trying to stay quiet and calm. I am in constant fear that she will toss a toy or herself over the balcony’s edge.
Every Thursday, Katie cries because she doesn’t want me to help her walk down the stairs and she does want a drink from the water fountain.
Every Thursday, the teachers check to see if Maddie has learned to do a backwards somersault, yet they have never taught her how to do a backwards somersault. Every week, they watch her try and fail. I want to yell from the balcony, “Show her how!”. But, of course, I don’t.
Every Thursday, we eat fast food for dinner because there is no time to cook. When we get home, Maddie is hungry, Katie is cranky, and Mommy is tired.
Every Thursday, we go. Maddie really likes it.