It’s common for me to feel humbled while parenting. I’m constantly learning something new and — like most humans learning something for the first time — I feel frustrated, disappointed and anxious. The feeling of accomplishment feels fewer and fewer these days so when I do have one of those moments, it’s one I want to capture, enjoy, and recall. 

For me, that moment happened last week at my daughter’s gymnastics class at the Y. Every week, I go in telling myself that it might be the last week, and that’s okay. My daughter doesn’t have to be great at everything; she may just not be built for group classes; or whatever other justification I try to recall from the many parenting posts I absorb while doom scrolling. 

But after five weeks of constantly taking my shoes off to run into the “gymnasts only” section to wrangle my free-spirited toddler back into her class, I was finally sitting behind the partition, like the other parents, enjoying moments of boredom and free phone time. I didn’t hear her name being called a hundred times. We weren’t in a loop of previous days.

This change did not come without great effort. This was a culmination of many “conversations” — or more accurately, me talking to my child and wondering if she’s listening.

• “If you want to be a SuperKitty, you have to train like one!” A solid argument, since she’s obsessed.
• “Champions follow the rules before they break records.” She likes the idea of winning. 
• “Want to go first? Stand by the teacher and listen.” It’s first or nothing. 

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And last week, there she was—right next to her coach, standing tall, waiting for her turn. She stayed with the class. Sure, she was still a little early every time it was her turn, but she’d slow down or pause when she heard her name being called. My shoes stayed on. I didn’t avoid eye contact with the other parents. I even made small talk with another mom! 

If I’ve learned anything, it’s that the effort you put into parenting doesn’t always come back in the way you expect—or when you expect it. But it does something else.

It builds empathy for other parents who are in the thick of it. It deepens respect for the teachers, caretakers, and coaches who guide our kids every day. And it makes you appreciate the tiny victories that remind you why you keep showing up.

I know this isn’t a straight road. There will be days when she dashes off again, lost in her own world, making a beeline for the trampoline. But today?

Today felt like a win. And that’s something I’ll take to heart.