The spandex-clad teacher pulled me aside, out of earshot from the other parents at the gymnastics class.

“We’d like to put your daughter in a developmental class,” she told me.

“She’ll be bored in here,” she said waving her hand toward the beginners – a few wobbly-legged kids and one or two with sickled feet.

My cheeks flushed. Her talent was obvious – she’d taught herself to cartwheel by the age of 2. My husband and I thought she was a natural, but it was nice to be confirmed.

The following week, I sat in the bleachers for 2 1/2 hours on Saturday at a morning class that acted as a fast track to the competition team.

It was nearly double the price of the last class, but I reasoned that my daughter’s talent was worth the added expense – and the energy it took for me to entertain her baby brother during the lessons. “Um, excuse me, are those your child’s Crocs? I’m sorry, my baby loves to wear shoes on his hands. Can he borrow them for a few minutes?”

A few months into this new Saturday morning routine, my husband was laid off, suddenly making it hard to justify the added $250 a month on our budget. We pulled our daughter out.

When we could finally afford to renew the classes a year later, she was 6 and moved up two more levels in about a month. However, the classes weren’t challenging enough, so she taught herself a back handspring and a back tuck at home.

“She needs to move up again,” the coach informed us one day after class. We sensed this was coming – our daughter was bored, protesting beforehand that she didn’t want to go.

I started threatening to charge her $75 for each class she missed, since that’s what it costs me. There were so many other things I’d prefer to spend that money on than dragging a cranky child out of bed on a weekend.

Hoping her attitude would improve in a more difficult class, I looked up the schedule for the next level: Tuesdays and Thursdays from 4:00 to 7:00 p.m.

My husband is a teacher at our daughter’s school, where she stays in after-school care until he finishes work meetings and cleans up. They often get home around 4:45/5:00 p.m. For me to get her to the class on time, I would need to drive 20 minutes each way to pick her up by 2:30........

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