Bash's energy level is INSANE. It got so crazy that Swedie and I had a meeting about it. We decided to get him into something to expend that energy. Swedie found a children's gymnastics course that Bash would surely like. Of course the price of the course made me think maybe this was an overreaction. Then Bash sprinted by on all four faster than any human should and I relented.
Now gymnastics is incorporated in Bash's routine. It's officially added to his list of possible destinations. He asks if we're going to:
And he doesn't like to go home either. He's like Daddy. He knows there's a party going on somewhere. The first day of gymnastics was a new thing for all of the kids. It seemed challenging for most of the parents to keep the kids somewhat focused. Total focus was impossible. Bash is one of the older kids, so it wasn't surprising that he handled the obstacles well. Side note: it's remarkable how much a child develops between the age of two and three. After that first class we wondered if we had wasted our money. Then I thought that was impossible because we would be going to these damned classes regardless. Or as my mom would say:
- You either gonna like it or ACT like you like it!
In the second class it was just Bash and me. Swedie was working that morning. I got there a little later than I would have if it was two vs. one instead of one vs. one. Crazy how a toddler can have you outnumbered. I had the timing down and everything! We were at the shoe part of getting dressed. Easy, right? No! Bash saw that got damn shoehorn and wanted to use it. He SUCKS at using a shoehorn. He does it all wrong and it's the biggest waste of time. But I don't want to ruin the mood before a gymnastics session which I don't even know if he likes yet.
He gets his shoes on despite resting the shoehorn on the top of his feet the whole time (I was starting to question his intelligence) and then he wanted to help ME put MY shoes on. Word? Is this the new game? This took longer than his shoes because Bash seemed to think that the shoehorn needs to be placed into the shoe and pushed down to the toe. That leaves ZERO room for a foot! It's like he didn't realize how he got his own shoe on. Add that to him getting angry every time I tried to "assist" him in "helping" me, then you've got us late to gymnastics.
I parked at about 9:02 and carried Bash (against his will) to the door. We were only two minutes late. I was actually proud of myself. I had his book and a change of clothes and everything! Swedie would be proud of me. Unfortunately the door was closed. Two parents were standing at the door with their children. Good, now I'll look like I was on time and waiting with these other responsible parents. Two other parents walked up, took turns looking through the door window and then took their place in line. I refuse to be a part of this ridiculous game, so I took out Bash's class folder and called the number on the back. As I waited, another parent walked up and did the same look and wait that the others did. I was in the Twilight Zone!
A woman answered and said she'd get someone to open the door. I hung up and looked at the line of robots, wondering how long they would have stared at that door. I purposely chose not to stand in that stupid line. Someone came and opened the door and we all went in. One vs. one is tougher when other kids are running wild.
Gymnastics has helped me come to the conclusion that Bash is a wild child that has no interest in my attempts to keep him alive and well. "Stop" is not a command to him. It's an option. It's very frustrating as a parent, because what do you do? He's only three. I can't ground him. It also sucks being that parent chasing a child in the streets. Especially when chasing said child becomes a game to said child. I know it will get easier when he develops some more empathy and understanding, but it's quite a dilemma.
Bash started really liking gymnastics when they started teaching summersaults. He is very determined and pretty strong. He can do the obstacles with no problem. I can't help but be impressed at my little boy. Recently Bash was feeling himself so much before class that he started dancing in the mirror.
The last time Swedie and I were there with him, the robots were back at it. The doors were open when we got there, but the locker room entrance was locked. A crowd of Swedes were standing at the door and staring patiently. Bash and I were waiting at a window because Daddy didn't want to be in the crowd. Swedie was upstairs waiting closer to the door. After a few minutes Swedie looked around at the robots, pushed her way through the crowd and banged on the door. An instructor came out and let everyone in. I just chuckled and shook my head. What's wrong with these people?
This is certainly the first of many activities Bash will do. I'm glad we did it and I look forward to future activities. Now I'm curious if it'll be sports or dance (he's got moves) or something else. No matter what I'll wade through the robots and support my boy. Until next time...