outside the (toy) box

Three months ago when dh mentioned for a second or third time that he thought we should enroll Thing 1 in gymnastics to help build her confidence (she’s the poster child for risk-aversion), I lost it. 

I asked - why gymnastics? Why not soccer? He said he would worry that as a tentative child she would end up at the sidelines observing and might get the idea that she isn’t good at sports, which neither of us want.  Okay, yes, scary, that would be bad.  I’m completely UNathletic and hope she’ll fare better.  Research shows sports are phenomenal for girls (less likely to use drugs, find themselves pregnant as a teen, and they boost self-esteem and body image, not to mention being good for their physical health), so I just dream of her as part of a team someday.  

Well, what about karate?  He says she’s too young.  And, since I’d already done some tenacious googling on preschool karate, I knew he was right — around here the programs  start when kids are about 6.  

For every alternative, he had some grossly reasonable explanation. So, finally, I gave up and blurted, “You’re being sexist — if this were ds, you wouldn’t be suggesting we put him into Gymnastics!”  His response, “Sure I would, I still wish I had taken gymnastics.”  BTW - His mother told me once that she wanted to enroll him in gymnastics when he was a boy (or was it dance)? but his father insisted he would become “a fairy” (Har har har.  Do people really talk like that?) so she didn’t.  Turns out homophobia robbed my husband of  back handspring skills.  Who knew?

At any rate, I conceded under the condition that we find a “real” gymnastics gym with equipment, and not settle for a tumbling class at a dance studio. Still, I took her the first day with my tail between my legs.  The night before, at dinner, she said she wanted to play soccer “with Janie,” and in spite of my husband’s quite insightful concerns about her and team sports, I felt a little bit like I was “the man” and I was stickin’ it to her - forcing her to conform. 

My little cautious one was excited on the way, but true to form got increasingly nervous en route.  By the time we walk into the gym, she is huddled behind my leg and asks, through tight lips, “Do you do it with a parent?”  The teacher, David (hmm. male. score one for dh), told her to warm up by jumping across some colored mats. Thing 1 just stands there - frozen.  I sit through plexiglass, holding my breath, envisioning $200 and her self esteem flying out the window.  Then David says, okay, forget jumping — how about you just run from mat to mat?  This evokes zero response.  He tries yet a third urging.  Now, I see her in my mind’s eye, 25 years down the road telling her therapist about the day.  But, then, as I held my breath and watched, something strange happened. She started to move!  She started doing it!  

That was that.  She proceeded to try everything he asked - she was on the beam, the tumble track, the bars, the rings, the trampoline — she rolled down wedges, and climbed ropes, crashed into a ball pit — grinning the whole time.  She came out sweaty with a squirrel stamp on her hand and asked if she could come back tomorrow.  I was three inches taller. I was so proud of her for taking a risk and I realized that I was proud of both of us. We both did things we didn’t really want to do, and we both left happy.  Really happy.

So, what of my concerns?  I went in thinking of kid’s gymnastics as girls in leotards being berated by male coaches for their weight, and maybe this is what it is in some places, but what I saw (and have continued to see) was nothing of the sort.  I have come to love lots about it.  I realized that the gym is essentially just world’s coolest playground, all that equipment, the climbing, and jumping, and running. It rocks.  Sometimes I just yearn to go sprinting down the tumble track myself — it looks impossibly fun.  But what Miss Judgemental Feminist in me didn’t expect was the strength building and confidence building that I’m seeing. My kid does chin ups!  She flips upside down off the rings.  The environment encourages her to push herself.  she sees other kids doing cool stuff and tells David, “I want to do that.”  One day she said she wanted to flip over the bar. David agreed and started to tell her how to do it, but interrupted himself to say, “It might be kind of scary, are you sure?”  What did she say?  “Yeah!”  SQUEEEE!

(btw, I saw “Squeee!” on the blog “Professorial Confessions” and I’m stealing it. I love it. It really captures a feeling, doesn’t it? It’s perfect.)

Tonight is her first class of the semester — they suggested she move up to a special program because she’s apparently extremely strong for her age.  I resisted at first, saying I wanted to make sure it was about fun, not about pressure or competition.  What did wise owner say? “If you want her to have fun, she needs to be challenged. This is the best way to make sure she has fun!” 

I hope it goes well - I love that she has something she finds fun and feels good about (you sould have seen her when they pulled me aside to talk with me about her “natural talent” - it was like she invented air.).  And, I also love that whether she becomes a gymnast or not, she’s developing skills she can use in anything athletic that she attempts.

Turns out dh is pretty smart, I should listen to him more often, but don’t tell him I said that.