Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Gymnasts and Babies

Esme has decided that her gymnastics teacher is the Bee's-Knees.

Every Saturday after breakfast, we head out to gymnastics class to watch Esme run around with 15 other 3 year olds in what I can only describe as semi-organized chaos. Semi-organized may be stretching the truth a little bit.
The class has 3 teachers; two female, one male. Esme has apparently (as of her last class) decided that the female teachers are terribly boring. The male teacher, on the other hand, is the greatest-person-in-the-world. Ever.
Esme spent most of the last class standing right next to him. Or cutting the obstacle-course circuit short so she could double-back and do a hand stand with him again. Or casually reaching up and holding his hand.
When her group of kids would move from one piece of equipment to another, Esme would give the new activity a try, deem it nowhere near as interesting as the aforementioned male teacher, and jog back over to his station to hang out.
Oh, and she copied him.
Copied his every movement. Even when he got hit in the.... *ahem*.... you know..... and fell to the ground, there was Esme, rolling around in pain next to him, sound effects and all. She leaned against the wall with him while he tried to regain his composure. She helped him count at 'hide and seek time' rather than hiding. She pretty much did whatever he did.
We saw him do a back flip from standing the other day, without even touching the ground! I'd like to see Esme copy that!
In other news, today I found a little sample bottle of the shampoo I used on Esme when she was just a tiny baby. The smell of it reminded me so much of having a tiny, sleeping baby in my arms... So I spend a little while looking at old pictures of Esme, remembering those quiet (and not-so-quiet!) days.

I must say, I am actually missing having a baby around now that I am living with Miss "No bed! No bed! No rest! No night-night! Go away Mommy!!!!"

Not that I'm complaining. There is no sound sweeter than your child stringing together words on their own. Of course, "I love you Mommy" is a little bit sweeter than "Go away Mommy". But not by much.

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