Talk to me for five minutes and I’m sure you’ll have heard all about poor me and how I have to sit at the gym for five hours per week.
Oh yeah. It used to be four hours. But September means a new schedule, and this new schedule means Jaylee’s class no longer coincides with Alison’s class. No. Ali will practice for two hours on Monday, and then again two hours on Wednesday. When her two hours on Wednesday are up, it is Jaylee’s turn.
Also, they changed Alison’s class time. We need to be there an hour earlier than before. This means that yesterday I had to go into the newspaper and let them know we could no longer do both routes, only our original route because well – time. There just isn’t enough.
The girl at the paper was none too pleased with me, but truly, I don’t know what else to do. It was either both routes go, gymnastics goes, my sanity, something.
So I decided giving up one route would help us for time.
The girls heard me talking with Josh about it.
“I have to sit in those bleachers now for three hours. What am I supposed to do for THREE HOURS, two was bad enough.”
I was explaining to Josh that I don’t know if this is how it’s supposed to be. All the busyness. I was not driven all over the place from practice to practice. I went to school, came home, did homework, ate dinner, had some family time, and went to bed.
There wasn’t a busy farm, or paper routes (well, that’s another story), and there sure as heck wasn’t three hours of driving and five hours of gymnastics a week. So to me, this isn’t normal.
Josh reminded me I wasn’t shuttled around as a kid because my mom was busting her butt to provide all the things. Josh is the one here busting his butt so I can run our kids to do the things they love.
My little girl has some pretty cool skillz. She is built for flipping all around. And not only is she built for it, she loves it.
My older girl, is she built for it? Does she have the same set of skillz? No. But she loves it just as much.
And me? Well, I’m lucky enough to have the hours to take them. Josh busts his butt so that I can be home to do all the things, take the girls all the places. And gymnastics is one of those places I get to take them.
This is my job. And you know what? I’m done complaining about having to go to gymnastics, and instead I’m going to be thankful I get to do this with my girls.
They are only little so long. They only need me to drive them from here to there for a few short years.
I am late in realizing what a joy and privilege it is to do this, but better to be late realizing it, than never realizing it.