I go to the gym a lot. (Well, I did recently and I will again very soon - we've had a minor lapse in motivation what with all the upheaval of starting school and everything else. But I'll be going back Real Soon Now.) My older son loves the gym's childcare center. The baby, not so much. Too bad for all of us that it's usually the littler guy who has to go with me.
So yeah. As if all the other things I have going on weren't enough, some deep parental guilt led me to sign the smaller one up for My Gym with one of his friends. His older brother is starting soccer this week, and got to do all kinds of fun and exciting activities before the baby was born or when he was little. The little guy got dragged around and never got to have much fun, unless you count nursing in the bleachers at gymnastics. I figured it was time for him to have his chance to do something all on his own, and now that the big one is in school all day I can actually fit it into the schedule.
Fast forward to our first class, last Friday. We're getting ready and he's all excited. We've been building it up for a week now and every single day he's asked if it's time yet. As we're walking out the door he says, "Mama, where are we going?"
"It's Friday! We're going to My Gym."
He looks at me with this serious face, like I'm trying to sneak something past him. "No, Mama," he says earnestly. "We're going to MY gym!"
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2 comments:
Oh, what a cutie! And, did he have fun??
Actually, he did. Had a few anxious moments there when they tried to make him sing, but we've established that he doesn't have to sing if he doesn't want to. The rest was really good.
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