Oksana...He is Not

C-man started gymnastics. I have been racking my brain for an "activity" to enroll him in outside of school that would be good for the child that would fit his, let's just call it, exuberance.

When I thought of gymnastics it seemed a good fit. Collin plus jumping, plus swinging, plus tumbling around on squishy stuff seemed ideal. And I was right. He loves it.

I love the outfit. I mistakenly assumed that my boy would need the smallest size shirt. He did not. The "snug" fit shirt is a bit too snug but it definitely doesn't go back over his head when he does flips and it causes his teacher to call him "big boy," in what I can only assume is an endearing way.

Collin rubs his belly and says, "I like my big fat belly," and then laughs like a bowl full of jelly. It's kind of cute. The irony is that his shorts are twenty sizes too big and he looks ridiculous.

The class is one of the best investments we've made for him in a long time. He loves it. Last week, he spent the entire time falling off the balance beams on purpose, as he said, "because falling is more fun."


What will we ever do with that boy?