This week Lyla started gymnastics. And I cried. I purposefully chose a day and time that I wouldn't be available to take her so that she has something in her schedule that is regularly a no-mommy thing. With a new baby coming I know I won't be able to be as involved in every little detail and activity as I typically am, so I thought it would be good for both of us to have something that she does regularly without me.
But the truth of the matter is I love being involved in every detail, and brushing her hair into a ponytail, putting on her little boots and talking with her about how exciting gymnastics was going to be killed me a little bit. I wanted to be the one to take her. But after a couple of tears I pulled myself together and I knew it was the right thing.
Ryan got to take her to her very first class, and I could only imagine what all the other moms thought of this big guy running around with his tiny daughter on those mats. I can't help but assume some drooling occurred. ;)
He was the proudest dad, and by all accounts it sounds like she's going to be a star gymnast. At least until she develops her mom's hips and passes the average 5'3" gymnast height by the time she's 10 years old. But for now, pure gold, baby.
Here's some pics from her very first gymnastics class!