Thursday, 18 September 2008

Random thoughts on G&T

That's Gym and Trampoline in this house. See what a mother life has become? This one time party girl hears the phrase G&T and her head thinks, Have I washed the leotards?

I don't know why we go to these lessons. Squirrel, Shark and Tiger have lumpy knees and fat tummies. I might adore these assets, but they are not exactly gym shaped. And Shark hates running. Tiger says she is rubbish because she cannot do a cartwheel. Squirrel says gym is alright but she only goes to see Izzy. Given this state, I'm not looking for Olympic Gold.

Today we are late and miss the warm up. I shrug my shoulders and say So what? You wanted to listen to all four hours of Lemony Snicket this morning. I said fifty times that we had to leave the house to arrive on time. And what's more the timetable says it's history day and all I managed to do was ask which side you'd be on when Henry Bolingbroke rode into town. I know which side I'd be on. I bet he was dashing. Before he got leprosy.

I seriously hope Squirrel, Shark and Tiger do not become gymnasts. Don't get me wrong, those gym babes look fantastic and there is no doubt of a body made out of a flexible hose but seriously, they train till they cry. And the trainers don't give a fig. Any sport that does away with common sense for the look of a piece of twisted copper wire has to be struck from the list of sports. Add ballet to that list too.

Anya is not here. Good. Anya is a trained Russian gymnast, and teacher. I loathe her. Not because she is Russian but because her face is carved out of sandstone, for gym is serious. Gym is so serious that if you do not jump just how you are told she will hunt you down, rip off your legs and then she will stand them in front of you and make them jump up and down just the way she said. Do not use the excuse that you are aged 8. Once she went towards my Tiger with that look of 'you are going to die' crossing her eyes and I swear at that moment my mother gene kicked in. I started across that gym floor towards that woman with my hands outstretched. It was only when she turned her gaze towards another unfortunate soul that I stopped that walk of death. Then I wanted to complain. And that was tricky. 'You know what? she looked at my daughter in a funny way'. So I made a mental note that if she looked at my daughter again like that I would find out which was her car and draw my penknife down the side. Then I discovered she walked to work, so my only revenge would be stalking. I'm glad she's gone, because I do not know how to fit stalking into my weekly timetable.

Why do I keep taking the kids to G&T? I don't know the answer to that question, really I don't. They are not much good at it, but they say they want to come, and some weeks they even claim to enjoy it. I suspect it is not the G&T, more the s word. That's socialisation in home ed land. They see their friends and get to chat about important stuff like who can do cartwheels and star jumps.

A positive reason to come is that they work with gymnasts who know what they're doing. Not like the Friday afternoon I got the pleasure of covering a Year 11 ping pong lesson. Ping Pong? Read training for free association, the type they do in prisons. Within fifteen minutes of that lesson, one kid was flat on the floor being hammered round the face with a ping pong bat. Holding him down was 20 stone worth of flesh. Not one ounce of that was brain weight. The silver lining to that afternoon was that I never covered another gym lesson in my teaching career, thanks to shouting illegal very loudly in the staffroom.

But I have to consider that these G&T lessons are cut price. Very cut price. That's the benefit of home ed. Don't think it's ridiculously expensive. There are so many people doing it now, find your local group and get the school rate, the price you'd pay anyway. So the problem to these lessons becomes not one of Should we stay? More, Why leave?

4 comments:

Mud in the City said...

Your yr 11 ping pong lesson has left me with wonderful mental images - thank you! And you're right, nto everyone is destined to be a contortonist gym bunny, but a love of activity at some level is a very healthy thing to grow up with.

Kitty said...

Anya scares me and I've only ever read about her in your blog post.

Tell Tiger I can't do a cartwheel either. It doesn't mean we're rubbish. It means our talents like in other areas.

So there. x

Grit said...

hi mud! i agree that more people need to get active. and i can still say that when i've spent a day sitting on my backside.

you are right, kitty. i tell tiger this family has a talent for eating cake, being bloody minded and, in her case, sitting on a horse. none of these activities require cartwheels.

Pig in the Kitchen said...

i'm going to whisper this, but...hit and run. that would sort out the girl from the Kremlin. You'd have to tie a nonchalant rag over your number plate tho, don't want to get caught.

and NO! i am not advocating violence, ha ha ha, i was just joking. (stick with your penknife idea, just make sure it's well hidden in your sleeve, and pretend that really you are admiring the car and stroking the paintwork)

i'm not really sick.
Pigx