Mimi is a Gymnast

When she was a baby, I was absolutely sure the girl was meant for the world of ballet. Infant Mimi's toes would fall into perfect pointe when I picked her up out of her crib. Her long legs have always been Gumby-flexible and her lithe frame seems specially designed for a tu-tu. Her big sis, however, already laid claim to that territory and, whether she decided to avoid it for that reason or not, Mimi has steered clear. While I always saw her as a ballerina, she has chosen gymnastics. (I should add that I did ballet myself as a girl, never gymnastics, so my vision was probably blurred from the beginning.) Mimi was a relative late comer to gymnastics, having started in second grade. She has made steady progress, though, and moved up a level at the end of each term. She was invited to join one of the competition leagues early on but declined out of fear and dread of having people watch her shy kid self. The Olympics changed all that and after a few weeks spent up long past her bed time glued to the TV watching Gabby Douglas in action, Mimi declared she was going to be on the Olympic team. She said things like, "When I am in the Olympics, I'll be nervous but I'll be okay." Also, in a display of modesty, she also wanted to make sure we wouldn't be too disappointed if she only won the silver. "Don't get your hopes up too high," she cautioned. So Gabby propelled us into the world of competitive gymnastics-lite. We signed up for the least scary league our gym offered--it's called the Star program and teams of girls compete against others from the same gym. Our gym is pretty big and has several locations so there are enough teams to make it exciting. At each meet, only the top 5 gymnast's scores on each apparatus count toward the final team score. With 10 on a team, the pressure comes off the individual gymnasts. Mimi never feels like she's on the hook. All this is great for her but it turns out I'm not designed to be an individual performance spectator mom. Watching my girl on the balance beam, one awkward fall away from a major concussion, is almost more than my heart can take. There I am, biting my nails as she flips around on the bars and crossing my fingers (and everything else) that she will remember her floor routine and somehow keep in time to the music. I sometimes cover my eyes cause I just can't look. I cheered in a loud unsportsman-like manner when she did her first front hip circle in competation and have cringed too dramatically (drawing unapproving stares) when she has flubbed a vault. Hopefully her grace compensates for my lack of it. She has plenty of grace. My proudest Mamma moment actually happened off the gym floor. In one of her competitions, Mimi's team faced off against an opposition that included 4 kids from our school...one of whom is an extra very good friend. Mimi was nervous but was bouyed by the love and support her friends shouted at her from across what could have been viewed as enemy lines. Mimi cheered them right back. At the end of a very close meet (have no idea how those things are scored so we didn't have a clue how either team was actually faring), Mimi's team was declared victorious by a tiny margin. Mimi cried. I thought it was the stress finally getting to her but I was wrong. She explained that if there couldn't be a tie, she wanted her friends to win. Love that kid! So maybe I should take a cue from my big-hearted girl and tone down the crazy mom routine in the stands (though if that ever makes it as an event, I'm pretty sure I'd get a perfect 10!)