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Archive for the ‘tumbling’ Category

Tonight my friends and I dance and do flips for our moms and dads.

It is a packed house. And we all “perform” for the crowd.

My friend Marley is the prom queen. She waves and blows kisses to her Mom.

My friend Amelia is the great dancer. She has all the right moves.

And I am the class clown. I make silly faces and show off my prat falls.

All the moms and dads clap and smile.

It is a great show.

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Will you be there? I ask Mom.

“Yes, I’ll be there,” Mom says. “And your Daddy, too.”

I won’t do it, I say to Mom. I will sit with you.

“I will leave it up to you,” Mom says.

We drive to the school. And all my friends are there. Wearing pretty dance clothes. Just like me.

We giggle. And hug. And play. And forget that our Mommys and Daddys are in the room.

One at a time we each show off our skills in gymnastics.

Then the music starts.

And we dance. First the Hokey Pokey.

blog-group dance

Then the Electric Slide.

Our leg kicks at the end bring the house down.

So we dance one more. The Chicken Dance.

blog-group dance 3

And then dig into the cookies.

blog-after dance cookies

What a fun night! No one wants to go home.

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I stand on one foot.

I bend my other leg. Point that knee out. And place this foot on my straight knee.

I am a tree, I tell Mom.

blog-yoga-tree

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I sit on a hill and look down. Leaves cover the ground. They have flown from their perch in the trees and have come to rest in the still-green grass.

The leaves are crisp. Their curled edges hide spots of red and gold on their bellies. I see only the browns of their back sides.

I bet the leaves will crunch if I roll on them, I think.

I start my descent. Slow at first. But I pick up speed as I near hill’s bottom.

I roll to a stop.

And see that Mom has filmed the whole thing.

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I am at gym class and I think I will make summer sauce. But Mom grabs and holds my feet in the air.

I can stand on my head!

“That’s a great hand stand,” the coach says.

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Mom has caught me twice shoving a kid in gym class. She asks my day care teacher why I might do this.

“Is it a kid she knows?” the teacher asks Mom.

“No,” Mom says. “She did not know either child.”

“We have caught her pushing new kids, too,” the teacher says. “But we tell her ‘soft touch,’ and she learns from that. And once she knows them, she plays with them just fine.”

“So, it’s an Alpha thing?” Mom asks.

“Yeah, sort of,” the teacher says.

Mom sighs and looks at me.

Hey, I did say I was sorry each time, I pout.

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A fat, thick rope hangs down in the middle of the gym floor. It has a large knot in it. So large that the knot makes a nice seat for small rumps like mine.

I grip the rope with both hands and sit on the knot. My coach gives the rope a push. And I swing.

I lean back a full arms length from the rope and let my pig tails hang down, too. I squeal as the rope gives me a twirl.

Weeeeee!

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