Award winner

Elle has gymnastics class once a week. 

She really enjoys the class and it shows.  She smiles and laughs and doesn't really seem to notice that she's ... um, not a very good gymnast.  Half of the time she walks across the balance beam she falls off because she's so busy checking out her reflection in the wall of mirrors off to the side.  When she attempts a cartwheel she sort of ends up on all fours and kind of weirdly hopping her whole body to the side.  When she does a cartwheel she ends up flopped on the floor, flat on her back. 

She enjoys herself though.  She always has a smile on her face and she laughs her way though the class.  Her lack of skill doesn't bother me.  I just want her to have a good time and she does.  She really does.  Most of the time.

At least one each class Elle bumps or stubs or twists some part of her body and it is always THE MOST DRAMATIC THING EVER!  She cries.  She moans.  She clutches the hurt body part and weeps in agony.  Sometimes she makes enough of a racket that the owner of the studio will come in and bring her an ice pack.)  She does deep breathing to calm herself down.  That in itself is big production because she has somehow figured out how to turn deep breathing into a Very Serious Thing.  She puffs out her little cheeks and her eyes get big and sorrowful and she huffs and puffs like a woman in hard labor.  It is impossible to watch her do this and keep a straight face.

My baby may never win a medal at the Olympics but this gymnastics class is going to be a huge step towards her winning an Oscar.

Four years ago today I talked about unschooling.