Letting him spread his wings

My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a few beats. Could I do it? Did I have the nerve to sign up Gus for gymnastics at the Y despite my reservations?

I'd thought about it a lot, how a physical activity like gymnastics or martial arts might be a great outlet for Gus's energy. Underneath ran a current of angst, though. What if he acted up, couldn't follow the rules? An anxious person like me can be taken down by what if.

I pictured Gus going rogue in gymnastics, running off to the trampoline when he was supposed to be stretching. In karate, he might do something careless and hurt another child.

We had tried gymnastics once before and it didn't go well. To be fair, though, that was when Gus was, like, 3 and the class was Tumble Tots. Not exactly serious business. 

Nevertheless, I flashed back to last time. We had visited the gymnastics center at the Y enough times for Gus to feel comfortable there. And he was plenty comfortable. He completely bucked all efforts at organized activities - just ran off and did his own thing. 

Really, what was the big deal? He was 3. Somehow for uptight, rule-following me it was a big deal, though. My guy seemed to be the only one who couldn't just go with the flow. We went a few times and then just stopped because I was embarrassed. This is a pattern with me, letting my insecurities run my life far too much. 

I took a deep breath and signed him up. I was relieved when Mark was free to accompany me to Gus's first class. If G did something embarrassing, at least I'd have someone there to share my mortification.

Where normally I'd read a book or magazine during one of the boys' lessons, I watched vigilantly, as if doing so may prevent some calamity.

This is shocking, but I needn't have worried. Gus acted pretty much like every other boy in the class. He was excited, yes, but he followed the rules and participated in all the activities. He even executed an excellent near-handstand (his fearlessness comes in pretty handy sometimes). As the weeks passed, I felt more at ease with class and even began to read a page or two of a book.

I've spent the past handful of years being hyper-vigilant. I haven't taken into consideration that Gus has had two years of school. He's learning and understanding expectations, even if a little reluctantly. I've given little leeway and kept the reins pretty tight. I think I've failed to notice that my youngest is growing, evolving, and, yes, maybe even maturing.

It's time for me to let go a little bit. So when I was looking at the park and rec brochure and contemplating signing up Gus for t-ball, only for a moment did I let myself entertain worries about him transforming into a maniacal little dude with a bat. I dropped the form and check in the mail with hopes for the best. Bring on the summer.