I took gymnastics for one horrifying month many years ago. I think I felt like the only kid on the whole planet who couldn’t do a cartwheel and I was hoping gymnastics would fix that. (That I imagined Modesto was somehow representative of “the planet” was the mother of all cognitive distortions.) Anyway, I have always hated being upside down. Gymnastics was not going to fix that, so here I am decades later, never having figured out cartwheels or ever having started astronaut training.
But my kids love gymnastics! They have been doing a Sunday night Special Olympics class for years, gently guided by enthusiastic college students. Whether Maria would by now be able to deal with a neurotypical class is not the point, although I have fretted about it on this blog before. (And if I thought her destiny lay in that direction, we would make different decisions, but, I can assure you, it does not not.)
Anyway, the meet was yesterday up in the ‘burbs of D.C., so off we went. Maria did great, as always, and she will not hesitate to tell you that.
And Tom also did great, but that’s an understatement.
There was a lot of goofing off and snuggling with friends (Maria) and Daddy (Tom).
The hugeness of Tom’s participation in this competition cannot be overstated. Last year, in the thick of his crises, he had to drop out of the practices because he got so upset, over and over. That he not only finished this year but also did the whole competition (minus the awards, and seriously, it lasted HOURS), despite being visibly nervous and clingy (I have not been so snuggled in years. It was kind of nice!), is proof that he came back in spades. It was a big, great day for him.