Gymnastics is at 1pm. Phoebe loves it. She hasn’t been for several weeks, maybe more than a month, due to illness, traveling, various reasons.
Today:
10:30am-11:45am : Several times I remind Phoebe that gymnastics is today. She toys with the idea of not going, and I tell her that I think if she goes she’ll really like it, get to go on the trampoline, see Miss Joan, her friends, etc.
12:15pm: Phoebe bumps her head. She is inconsolable. Nummo only helps a little. We have the gymnastics conversation again. In my head I debate the wisdom of forcing her to go to gymnastics against her protests. We read a book, then read another while I brush her hair.
12:45: I tell her that by now it’s almost too late to go to gymnastics; by the time we get there it will be more than half over at this point. I expect this to be good news. It’s not. Panic, more tears, she really wants to go now. She says “Is it 1 o’clock now??” I tell her that we can go and she will not miss the whole thing if we leave right now. She scrambles for the door. I throw my keys, phone, and grocery list in my purse and follow her out.
1:15pm: She falls asleep.
1:15-1:25pm: Debate in my head: if I try to wake her up when we get there, she’ll probably cry and be groggy and only get to do 10 minutes of gymnastics. If I don’t, she’ll be disappointed and betrayed that she didn’t get to go.
1:27pm: Drive by gymnastics. Don’t turn into the parking lot. Say “Phoebe?” a couple of times, no response.
1:35pm: Park at the grocery store. Feel guilty about not waking her up, think about how little it makes sense to wake her up for 10 minutes of gymnastics. Think wistfully about the other moms sitting around chatting while I sit in the car with no adult company.
2pm: Play solitaire on the iPod. Listen to Terry Gross.
2:30pm: Fall asleep for a while. Hope drool isn’t visible to other shoppers in the parking lot.
3pm: Phoebe wakes up. Immediately says ‘let’s go to gymnastics’. I regretfully tell her she slept through it. I make it sound like I tried harder than I did to wake her up. She sobs, she can’t believe it, she will never go to gymnastics again, it’s been so long since she was there.
3:10pm: Still devastated by the loss of gymnastics. Doesn’t want me to look at her. Doesn’t want to do anything else.
Sigh.
