Baby Gymnastics

Unless you live under a rock, you may have heard that there's a little competition called the Olympics going on.  Well, I say...Olympics Schmaimpics.

Forget Gabby, Jordyn and Aly.  Baby gymnastics?  Now that's where it's at, people.

My mom signed Madeline and I up for a parent/tot gymnastics class after finding a good Groupon deal.  Someday, when Madeline wins a gold medal, thanks go to you, Mimi.  I probably never would have thought of signing Madeline up on my own.

Weeks before the class started, I was worried we'd be bested by a group of overly competitive toddlers with names like Svetlana, Sergey and Xui Li.  Baby Svetlana would be doing back flips through the door blinding us with her sequined diaper and false eyelashes while Xui Li's mother timed how long it took her baby to climb the rope to the ceiling.  Meanwhile, Madeline and I would be all like, "Yo, when's the next break?  I need a dang rest!  And are there Cheerios involved??"

Luckily, my worries were unfounded.  We have a small group of very nice toddlers who are all equally awkward and uncoordinated.  The most competitive we get is learning how to wait in line for the bubbler.

Have you ever tried to teach a kitten to play the violin?  No?  I'm sure someone on YouTube must have.  Well, a kitten orchestra must be a lot like baby gymnastics.

If medals were handed out in baby gymnastics, here's how I'd rate Madeline:  

Pretending You are an Airplane:  Bronze

When we run around pretending we are airplanes, Madeline usually forgets to put her arms out.  When she does remember, she shoots them straight up above her head Superman style instead.  Therefore, although she may not be technically proficient in this category, I still feel she deserves a medal for creativity.  

Balance Beam:  Gold

Madeline rocks the balance beam! The first time the teacher showed us what we'd be doing, I thought she was mad.  (You want my baby girl to walk across that thing?  Really?  You do realize that she falls for no reason walking on normal ground right?)  But Madeline has surprisingly good balance.  She only has to hold one of my hands instead of two, she can bend over to touch her toes, and she can throw beanbags into hula hoops all from the balance beam.  Total gold, baby.

Trampoline:  Bronze

Madeline hasn't quite figured out that she's supposed to bounce across the trampoline.  Instead, she yells, "RUNNNNNNNNN!" while going as fast as her little legs will take her.  Due to the lack of traction on the trampoline, Madeline picks up enough speed to strongly resemble a whirligig.  By the time she gets to the other side, her momentum causes her to face plant into the mats.  Every. single. time.  She doesn't mind.  She giggles.  I've given up trying to show her how to bounce across.  She's just so happy, and I like her style.  

Donkey Kicks: Silver

For a long time, Madeline would just stand there and watch me demonstrate donkey kicks with a wicked little smile on her face that seemed to suggest, "Mumma, you literally look like a jack ass."  But after a few lessons, she's starting to get the hang of it.  She still only kicks one leg up in the air instead of getting both feet off the ground.  Sometimes she sees me through her legs while she's upside down and gets distracted.  "Hi, Mumma!  Hi, Mumma!  Up. Side. Dooowwwn. *Giggle*"   She's getting there though.

Foam Pit:  Gold

The gymnasium has a giant pit filled with foam blocks that we spend the last ten minutes of each class trying not to drown in.  It's deeper than me, so I'm pretty sure there could be some lost gymnasts buried under there.  I'm even more certain that the thing hasn't been cleaned since 1994.  I caught a whiff today.  Next time, I'm tempted to yell "Doody!" in an attempt to reenact the scene from Caddy Shack.

Madeline doesn't care that the mob may have disposed bodies there.  She's just uber excited to be tossed into a giant pit of foam blocks.  Really, who can blame her?  Sometimes she starts to sink and I have to pull her out by an ankle, but mostly she's light enough to wiggle across the surface.

I'd say, all in all, baby gymnastics has been a success so far.  Daily Madeline asks for "Nastics?"  so she must approve.  

It makes me wonder.  Is this where it all starts?  Fifteen years ago while I was learning marching band drills and making out at the bowling alley (cause I was awesome) were the current Olympians doing donkey kicks with their mothers?  Did they fail at trampoline bouncing, or were they like baby Sergey doing back handsprings before they reached twenty-four months?