It's been two weeks now since gymnastics lessons have started for the Toddler, and there has yet to be a single surprise. Within thirty seconds of the first lesson, I was already grateful that she's too young to be embarrassed by me, because I truly excel at the embarrassing in public situations thing.

I started out on the wrong foot. Or feet. That is, I am a giant dork and even with 20 some other parents around to observe, I still missed the whole Shoes Go in Cubbies thing. Ah, yes indeed, we were the only two in a room full of people wearing shoes on the big red mat. Awesome.

I continued my Not With it Ways when I was the only parent -ONLY PARENT- that didn't know the little songs that get sang every ten seconds. The Toddler is in a class full of two-year olds (in theory they can't have been going to gymnastics THAT long), but apparently I am WAAAAY behind the times because I am clueless as to the songs that you sing when pulling bells out of a box, playing with balls (*snicker*), and jumping on one foot. There must be some sort of hymnal for gymnastics and I guess I need to find it. Or maybe I don't, given that I am the worst singer on Earth. Perhaps it is best that I can't join in with the cult-like tunes.

My ultimate FAIL came at the hand of Gymnastics Mom Extraordinaire. I knew there would be one--a woman who very clearly excels much more than I do at the Mom Thing. One glance and I knew she was of another class of women. Her perfectly ironed pleated khakis were tightly cinched with a shiny leather belt. Her light pink Ralph Lauren Polo shirt was buttoned just right and tucked in perfectly. Her shiny penny loafers donned shiny new ACTUAL pennies. Her perfectly coiffed blond hair had nary a single stray strand. Everything about her was Perfect.

Also perfect? Her four kids. The oldest was in the class preceding the Toddler's, one is in the class with the Toddler, and the other two are in the class immediately after the Toddler. See that? The woman reproduced at exactly the right rate to be able to line up gymnastics classes. That takes mad skillz. But not only are the classes lined up perfectly, the KIDS LINE UP PERFECTLY. They all sit in chairs, side-by-side, working on their homework when it's not their turn to participate in class. Their outfits are perfect, their behavior is perfect, they. are. perfect.

The Toddler is not.

The Toddler is really enjoying gymnastics. Especially the balance beam. She wants to walk across that thing over and over and over and over. It's her thing. Her thing that she wants to do and since she's 2, it doesn't really occur to her that someone else might want a turn. I mean, she's not shoving anyone out of the way or anything, but she certainly doesn't pause to look around after jumping off the end. Instead, she races back to the stairs to climb back on top of the beam again.

I guess this is a rude behavior.

At least, that's what Gymnastics Mom Extraordinaire said last week.

As the Toddler rounded the corner to head for balance beam walk number 451, the voice of Gymnastics Mom Extraordinaire cut through the giggles and declaration of "Do it again!" She said, "I'm trying to teach Angel Madison Tiffany Smith-Jones* to be polite and take turns, but clearly that's a problem when you don't find such things as important as I do."

Awesome. You just know that if Alexis were older, she would have been embarrassed.

I'm so proud that I can be such an embarrassment to my kid. In fact, I might just have to embarrass her weekly, just to piss off Gymnastics Mom Extraordinaire.

*Not her real name, but it is something equally long and much snootier.