Nervous, Anxious, Happy

Chloe has been a ball of uncontainable energy for the past couple of days …

A few weeks ago, she was invited to tryout for the gymnastics team. Or pre-team. Or training team. Obviously, I have no idea what any of this means. Since I was sitting on the floor at the gymnastics center when I received her invitation, I ungracefully hauled myself up off the hard, rear-numbing floor (don’t they have old mats they could spread around for us achy people?) and went into the office. The “coach” hadn’t moved since hitting “send” thirty seconds earlier and tried to explain it to me, but all I can hear is – FOUR HOURS A WEEK. Of sitting on that rear numbing floor.

Starting yesterday afternoon, the tryouts were the only thing Chloe could talk about. She jumped around. She planned. She jumped around. She checked the clock every ten minutes all day today to be sure that we weren’t going to be late. She jumped around. She complained about the traffic lights on the way over. At one point she declared, “I’m so happy I could cry!”

She wondered aloud about what they would do in tryouts. She hoped she would do well. All of this is her own doing. I like that she likes the classes. I like that she challenges herself to get better at various flips, tumbles, stretches and more. I don’t push her. I am the antithesis of a tiger mom, especially when it comes to her gymnastics…

After the tryouts were over and my rear was sufficiently numb, Chloe came out very happy about how she had done. I hadn’t watched, so I have no idea how she did in comparison to the other kids. And I really don’t care, to be honest. I don’t know when she will find out about the results; I hope she will not be too disappointed if she isn’t accepted.

If Chloe makes the team and decides to pursue the opportunity, I suppose I will need to invest in a nice collapsible camp chair for myself.