Today was the last day for Gracie's and Bridget's gymnastics classes (Maddie's last class is next Saturday). It's hard to express just how much these girls love gymnastics—all three of them would go every single day of the week if we let them. Gracie started gymnastics at Barcroft two years ago; she is pals with all the teachers now and we've heard more than once that she could be a candidate for team training—she is wired for the sport in every possible way. For now, we're sticking to the hobbyist approach to gymnastics with her, and keeping her away from Béla Károlyi. Bridget just started this past session after being dragged to class after class (first in a carseat, then trapped in the mezzanine viewing area) for almost two years. She spontaneously yells out "FUN!" during class on a regular basis, accompanied by a near-hysterical giggle of glee. And it is FUN! to help her through all the activities, with the exception of the vault pit, perhaps. Have you ever tried to climb out of a gymnastics vault pit? It isn't pretty.*
This is a far cry from Gracie's very first ribbon ceremony, where she started shrieking upon discovery that all the people were looking at her (no matter that they were smiling and clapping and cheering her on).
I got a little teary when I thanked Miss T (in the maroon shirt) for all the staff here has done for the girls in the last two years—Gracie especially. Their consistent and kind instruction has benefited her in innumerable ways through a few very difficult days of growing up, and the good days, too. I am very sad to say goodbye—to the staff and to the small pack of girls she runs with every week (not pictured). I assured her that gymnastics exists in Wyoming. I'm fairly sure they'll all be there with bells on.
*No comments on that, Christine.