Answered Prayers

Sunday at 7:30 am won't find any of us in bed. Generally, I treasure Sunday mornings. We don't need to hurry anywhere (a church start time of 10:15 is positively late). No leisure this Sunday. We are off to a gymnastics meet. If you've followed Hadley and her love of this sport, you must wonder how we arrived at this point.

I've struggled since the beginning of last summer with gymnastics. Clearly my oldest is smitten, bitten by the uninvited bug of gymnastic passion. The sport is pricey and dangerous. But what sport, done intensively, doesn't have a long list of risks? If her ambition was modeling, I would worry and fret about that. I can't stomach the fees  or  letting gymanstics destroy two or three family dinners a week, not yet. I can't let a sport take my girl away at such a young age. Yet, anyone who studies any sport or art to the point of recognizable success (be it a commerical, a title, a performance) gives many things up, is there a balance?  I still don't know, but for now, God changed the course I thought we were on, at least temporarily.

I watched Hadley all fall and ached. Her flipping, balancing, upside-down passion didn't wane. There were many nights of tears. Hadley wondered why God wouldn't let her compete. She knew He could change her parents hearts and provide the money. She knew multiple girls whose parents let them compete. Every night, since this summer, Hadley ended prayer time with a request that God would let her compete. I listened and winced --doubting there was any competition in her future. Sometimes in my daydreams I would get a job so she could compete, or money would come from somewhere and I could hand her, her dream. But even if the money came, I wasn't convinced that amount of time (6-12 hours a week) was healthy. And then there were stories I'd stumble upon in magazines, about girls who quit gymnastics only to worry about the lack of time working out and turn to eating disorders as an answer. I never found answers to my questions, but I found contentment, because regardless of the other issues, the money wasn't there. By December, I think both Hads and I had peace. God was in control. Even if she never competed, this passion and skill had a purpose we couldn't see.

In March, I stopped the coach to let him know Hadley loved his class. He's a good teacher and I wanted to encourage him. He's thoughtful too, passing down his daughter's used grips (for bar) so we wouldn't need to buy new ones. Coach responded with, "Maybe Hadley would like to do a fun meet?" Fun meets are what kids do in the early stages of competition. They perform routines, get judged but there isn't a state-wide ranking and coaches can be right next to them, helping them stay calm and remember the moves. Generally only kids enrolled in the team programs we had avoided could participate. Hadley heard him and her whole body started springing up and down while her eyes welled up with happy tears. Hesitant and uncertain, I asked questions. He thought she could learn the routines during her regular training hours. Perhaps she could participate in one meet without much extra cost to us. Almost crying myself, I said thank you and that we would check with Tom.

To my surprise, Tom gave a green light. Was it wise to let her compete in one meet? Would it just make her more upset in the long haul? The momentum was too strong now, Hadley believed God had answered her prayers. There was no turning back.

Weeks went by. Hadley learned no routines, but she was planning on this meet. Questions were flying through my mind. I finally stopped coach, asking him about his plans and timidly expressed my hope that this meet wouldn't be an emotional disaster. He explained the unanticipated difficulty of finding time to instruct Hads one on one with nine other girls in the class. But his plan far exceeded any of my imagined solutions. Hads has now received over five hours of free one-on-one or one two private instruction time. I feel indebted to the two coaches who have helped her. I don't really understand why we are receiving so much generosity. Sometimes I go to dark places wondering about alterior motives, but then I remember a big God who heard a little girl and a big God who heard a mother plead with him to make her daughter's faith real, and I know this is one step on the journey. And in truth, I am in no way obligated to this gym, though I do sing their praises regularly.

So think of us Sunday. Pray for us. I will be sitting in the audience, tensing my back and forgetting to breath when the hardest parts of a routine happen. This faith wave leaves me unable to plan or anticipate, grateful to know a God who can provide glorious riches beyond what we can imagine.

Saying No

Gymnastics. The girls spend more time in leotards than they do other clothing (unless you count the sleeping time of PJs). Hadley conducts gymnastics classes for all children who enter the house, willing or not. They happen in the playroom, on the gymnastics mat my parents bought me and saved for twenty years before passing on. Regularly I hear the in unison counting of my two girls as they do the designated warm ups for the day's tumbling tests.

Sometimes, Hadley will grab a clip board and write out a  list: headstand, handstand, somersault, back bend, splits. Kassy will happily perform for her teacher who then rates the skills, always with words of encouragement and praise.

November will mark the one year aniversary of starting Hads in gymnastics. While I value the strength and determination she has developed (it seems just yesterday she was crying over not being able to do a headstand...well, the tears have stopped and she has learned valuable lessons about practicing), gymnastics has my stomach in knots. True, when she spins around those bars and lets go to land, I hold my breath and can barely watch. That's bad enough, but the real knots come from the future.

Hadley started in the recreational classes and was quickly moved to the pre-team class called Ladybugs. I gawked at the three hours of practice per week that they wanted and only agreed to once a week. They gawked at me, but must have needed the money. Now they want to move Hadley to Junior Trainers, which requires six hours a week in the gym, for three hours at a time. The fee, not including the insurance fee, $150 per month. If a month was really only four weeks long, that would be $6.25 an hour--not unreasonable.

And Hadley is praying fervently to be able to be a Junior Trainer. She'd sell most of her possessions and give up soccer if she could be a trainer. She wants a team leotard and wants to compete. She's good--not exceptional, but good.

But I can't afford $150 a month, not unless I tell Kassy she can't do anything. And the next level is 9 hours a week and more money. And the level after that? 12 hours.I don't want her gone twice a week from 4:15-7:15. She's 7. I want her home for dinner---the too- busy- for- family- dinner thing CAN'T happen yet. And who knows? Gymnastics might not be her life-long sport love and no one can do gymnastics past their early 20s. But for now, Hadley is smitten. We both cried when they moved her up because we both knew she couldn't go up.If I knew a college scholarship or a job teaching gymnastics full time was in her future, I'd go get a job and make this work, but some people don't even think gymnastics is a particularly healthy sport and I don't know the future.

Why are kids sports so intense, so quickly? Can't she just go for two hours a weeks? Yes, she can. But then she can't compete and she gets second rate coaching. You know those moments when you look at your sweet, sleeping child and hope you can give them all that their heart longs for? I've always known I couldn't, that I shouldn't, that heart breaks would come and I would be powerless. But tomorrow I have to call the coach, "Look, we can't do this, now what?"

And then I have to tell Hadley, who is still holding out hope that she is so good, they will let train anyway, I will have to say, "Look honey, even though your friends can be trainers, you can't (with, the undertone of we don't have the money). But you can still take gymnastics(unavoidable translation by my daughter:non-competeing, inferior, gymnastics). Chin up." And we will both cry.

And I will wait for the day when I can grab her thoughts and complete the lesson, see, "We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." But I will still cry.

Tidbits

Can you tell I've been sick? Two weeks and counting. I finally went to the doctor this past Wednesday and got an antibiotic and cough medicine with codeine. I used the cough medicine for two nights and can now sleep without its aid. The symptoms are slowly reversing themselves. First the cough left, then the mucus seized draining down my throat and is currently stuck in my head. T is sick now too( Side note: He is a terrible patient. Resting quietly around the house is like torture for him--he paces around the house looking anxious when he is supposed to be relaxing.) I don't know if the girls aren't sick because they've already had this or if they will be the next victims. I hope K doesn't get this bug as it comes with so much phlegm that she's sure to get an ear infection.

So, sickness drains energy. I used my energy to do the necessities and didn't blog as Amanda noted in her last comment. I am definitely better though since I had even energy this week to try a new gluten-free apple cinnamon muffin recipe with buckwheat flour. It didn't have much of the typical starches that most GF recipes have, plus it had walnuts for protein and agave nectar for sugar ( a honey-like sweetener with a low number on the glycemic index) so I got to eat muffins too.

My mom was here almost two weeks ago. I haven't had a chance to mention it. She came for H's play. It was great having her around for the first sick week. She is so helpful and encouraging. Plus, she does things like clean the kitchen fan and the bottom of the refrigerator. I wish we lived closer and I wish I hadn't taken her picture in front of the screen door. Love you mom, thanks for the loan dad.

H's big news for the week involves gymnastics. After her first 11-week session she was invited to join the Ladybugs. She was so excited to be singled out in this way and doubly so since her latest best friend is in Ladybugs (and in her 1st grade class). Ladybugs is a pre-team group. That means they meet twice a week for 1.5 hours each time. And they have fun meets: meets at the local gym with judging, but not with the same strict standards. There are no real winners, just ribbons for everyone and a bit of competitive experience. BUT, I don't want to spend three hours in the gym in week, and I don't have that kind of money. Plus soccer starts in May and if you were reading this blog in the fall, you know how busy those six weeks are. So, probably she will be heart broken and have to stay in the recreational gymnastics class and just go once a week. But it was an exciting accomplishment. I've had several reminders lately that its not a good for kids to get everything they want, especially without much effort.