“Hello my name is Misty, and I am the mom of a competitive gymnast…an eight year old competitive gymnast.” Not that there is anything wrong with that, right? Honestly, some days I wonder. Days like last week when a girl in the gym broke her arm as we all watched.
I remember with the first 2 kids the romantic idea of them finding their passions early. Of walking in & hearing your child being cheered. How happy for them you would be, whatever they picked. Well, maybe...
Back then I was a young parent, I am much older now, a touch wiser. I understand how fleeting childhood is. There is plenty of time down the road for 'fame & fortune', whatever it may mean for them. That is why when at the tender age of 6, Boo, our youngest, showed promise as a gymnast, soccer-mom me, stood behind her. Because I am her mom. And covered my eyes. That too, because I am her mom.
She’s good; that is the hard part. It is scary, it is rough, it is expensive, & it takes loads of time & devotion. And she loves it. Every single moment of it- cannot get enough.
I have wallowed in the loss of sampling little classes here or there. I have wondered if competitive gymnastics is a good idea at all. I have even tried to slow us down a bit. I didn’t succeed, unless you consider giving her coaches a good laugh over my attempts success.
In the end this is her path to take. Hers, win or lose. My doubts & fears belong to me. My job now is to watch her on her way, making sure she travels as safely as possible down her path. In someways I was right from the get go; it is romantic. When you follow passion you find love. Where you find love you find joy & sometimes heartache. It isn't always easy but I am right behind you, it is in my job description. I am your mom & that, for now anyway, I believe this is your star.

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