One night, I was on the computer, and Jim was watching "Wipeout". We never watch it, but there was nothing else on. Dylan was supposed to be sleeping, but all of a sudden he appeared in the living room. "Wow! What's this?", he asked, mesmerized. We told him he needed to go back to bed. "Can you tape this for me?"
That is how there came to be "Wipeout" stations all over my house. Pillows are bouncy balls, a footstool is a jumping post, couches are landing zones, and I am praying we don't take a trip to the ER. He gets one hour of TV a day, and for the past 7 days that hour has been spent watching the same Wipeout episode. He can do the commentary word for word at this point. Seriously.
I decided the kid was in desperate need of some structured physical activity - "structured" being the key word. I signed him up for a class at the YMCA called "All Sports". Could there be a better class for Dylan? Well, they didn't have a Wipeout class. We missed the first class because my mind has ceased to perform properly (which is a fancy way of saying I completely forgot). I think they did soccer for the first class.
This week they did kickball. One thing I love about Dylan is how he just jumps in head first to everything. Even though he missed the first class, the minute we got in the gym, he ran over, ready to start. The class is for 4-6 years olds. There are a number of 6 year olds, which is great, because Dylan needs to get used to not being the best at everything. He did get upset that he wasn't getting the ball every single time someone kicked it, but he kept his composure enough that I think I was the only one who noticed.
I had a blast watching him in the class. This week is tee ball. Considering the fact that last summer he hit the ball so hard it almost broke our neighbor's window, I'm a little nervous.