I went to Malcolm’s end-of-the-year gymnastics performance today. He’s shown us some things they teach in class, but I was keenly interested in seeing the whole package: if he actually enjoys himself, how he relates to his teachers, and whether he shows any more coordination in class than he does at home (he is a bit of a klutz, displaying as much grace as a drunk guy trying to take off his pants.)
The first thing I noticed was that his gymnastics instructor was a bit of a nightmare. Her arms were cut like an elite body builder and her eyes bulged out as if she were trying to pass a kidney stone at all times. If she was looking to scare the kids into submission, she was definitely on the right path. During the presentation she strutted around the mat barking orders at the kids loudly, “Eva, get those feet together. Malcolm, arch your back! Maddie, tuck in your arms. EVA, GET THOSE GOD DAMN FEET TOGETHER!!!” I thought for a moment that she was an out of work football coach, but when she saw me daydreaming she sneered at me so intensely that I peed myself a little bit.
I’m sad to say that Malcolm was not very good at what he was doing. I chalked it up to starting slowly because he was nervous about all the parents being there watching. When he failed to even walk across the balance beam without assistance (all the other kids glided seamlessly across it) I realized that it wasn’t nerves. He just sucks at gymnastics. While all the other parents smiled and remarked on how well each other’s kids were doing, I nervously stared at my feet hoping he doesn’t suffer from vertigo. The program finally ended, I rushed to Malcolm and told him that he was my hero. I didn’t lie and say, “good job” or “you’re awesome,” I’ll save comments like that for when he actually does well at something. Instead, I asked him if he had fun and that I enjoyed watching him (which was true except for the parts where he was actually doing the gymnastics.)
I can’t really say that I am totally disappointed, as I don’t like gymnastics and loathe the idea of watching recitals for the rest of his childhood. It’s probably because of the close connection between gymnastics and jazz hands. Since his class is more about balance and flexibility though, I will continue to enroll him in classes and hope that Frau Fitness In Transit will be able to get him past “drunk guy taking off his pants.” Come to think about it, I may know where he gets that…
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