My Daughter Hates Gym Class

She was in tears. She was on the verge of a full out meltdown. Refusing to get off the couch. Refusing to get her shoes on and get ready for school. I thought she must not be feeling well, but between her sobs she was able to let me know that wasn’t the case. Then I started to get a bit concerned. What could be so terrible about Kindergarten that would reduce my daughter to tears? Is she being bullied? Does she feel overwhelmed by learning to read? Based on this reaction, surely it must be something terrible, right?

Turns out it was gym class.

She was able to calm down enough to let me know that she didn’t want to go to school because today her special was P.E. My brain did not comprehend this. Shouldn’t gym be the highlight of the day, and the day you have gym be the highlight of the week? Especially at this age. I am pretty sure everything she does in Kindergarten P.E. is just various forms of running around to get energy out. It’s not like she’s getting picked last for basketball or taking an awkward public shower afterward.

I couldn’t help but think, what kind of a kid of mine are you? If I was stupider, I’d have half a mind, and I’d use it to call Maury Povich. I know she’s my daughter, but clearly something is skipping a generation here. I was literally awarded for my gym class prowess. When I graduated high school I wasn’t given any cords for first or second honors, no medals or ribbons for AP classes or extracurricular activities. I was given the Physical Education Award. Which I’m pretty sure only myself and maybe one other person received, so in a way it was far more prestigious than those NHS sashes half the senior class had. I mean, how big of an honor can it really be if they were seemingly handing those things out left and right?

Anyway, apparently there is something about tag that my daughter finds incredibly troubling. While I agree that tag is pretty lame, being the cause of a teary meltdown seems a bit much. While I’ve never seen her play a game of tag, given what I know about her, I have to assume she’s constantly it. I wouldn’t say she’s un-athletic. When we play baseball in the backyard she has a pretty natural swing. When she started playing soccer she scored a goal in her very first game. She holds her own in a game of keepy uppy. However, it is clear that she lacks any aggression or competitive drive. Which really makes we wonder what exactly she did inherit from me.

Is a competitive spirit inherited or developed? Thus far it’s safe to say she has not inherited it. Despite the fact she scored a goal in her very first soccer game, by the last game of the season she informed us that she would not play next year and proceeded to spend the final game of the year alternating between standing in one place and outright refusing to leave the bench. Can I inspire her to compete? I don’t really care if she never plays soccer again in her life, but I can’t abide somebody with a total lack of will to compete. Even if you don’t like the game, you should still play to win it.

I also don’t want to be the kind of dad that is a hard ass to my kids over a game of Candy Land. There must be a sweet spot between letting your kids win (which I refuse to do) and reducing them to tears because they say they never win. If I push them to want to win more at games will that transfer to gym class? Games are supposed to help kids’ development, right? I’d make the case that its important to develop the will to win. My gut says I should. My brain says I shouldn’t. I know I should just let games be fun, let sports be something my kids try just to see if they like it, let gym class be the low point of the week. As much as I can’t empathize with dredding P.E., I need to empathize with my sad kid.

For one, its the right thing to do. But it will also be good practice for when my kids start hating the parts of school that are really worth hating, like spelling tests and geometry. Unless they are good at spelling and really dig proving postulates and theorems. Who knows, maybe one of my kids will end up being one of those competative spelling bee nerds. While I will be of absolutely no spelling assistance, I can inspire them to spell harder than the other kid. You spell to win the bee.