Andrew and I went to Gymboree every week for almost two years. We didn't give it up until he was too old to go. I felt like the classes were so good for him. He learned to stand in line and wait his turn and play nicely with other kids. And he had a blast and burned off tons of energy.
I thought for sure I would have started Caroline way earlier, but here we are at almost 18 months and we're just now getting there. It's harder the second time around y'all.
I look at her and she's so big. Why is my baby sliding down the slides and climbing on everything and making the biggest messes that take forever to clean up? Oh. She's not much of a baby anymore.
It's hard though because I compare her to Andrew and compared to him she is just a baby, and I think this is keeping me from treating her like a toddler. I'm sure she's getting away with way more than I would have let Andrew get away with at this age.
Like I let her stand up in the chair at the kitchen table, and I don't tell her not to bounce all over the couch. I would have never let Andrew get away with that! But I guess I've learned what the small stuff really is and not to sweat it.
Or maybe I'm just too darn busy keeping up with the both of them to do anything about all that small stuff.
Yep. That's probably much more likely. :)
And oh my word - I'd forgotten how INSANE these early toddler months can really be.
Most evenings I sit down, take a deep breath and realize I've spent my day with a tiny tornado, full of destruction and energy and no defined path. But then she will say "nigh nigh" and lay her head on my shoulder and snuggle in and pat my chest with her chubby baby hand and I'm so in love.
(Yesterday she repeated, "I lub ooooo." Heart, melted.)
I know she'll be out of these out-of-control months soon enough, and I'll miss them. But right now I'm hoping a little Gymboree time will help narrow her path of destruction. :)