Saturday mornings are daddy mornings, and unless someone is sick, my daughter and I go to Hoppin’ Tots, a toddler gym on Falls Road. It’s our special time together, as it is the only time in the week where it’s just us; no wife or step-daughter, no distractions of work for me or toys for her.

And although we’re surrounded by other toddlers and their parents, we’re often pre-occupied with the task of tumbling. Each session starts off with “circle time” when we stretch, sing songs and poems, and learn what’s in store for the obstacle course.

When she and I first started coming, my daughter was about 18 months, and she didn’t know what to make of the songs, the instructor or the other children. She would huddle in my lap, hiding from the exposure of participation in the group activities, which was nice as she was immensely attached to my wife and rarely turned to me for comfort outside of this particular setting.

Each week’s obstacle course offers a different theme: animals, superheroes, Sesame Street, Alice in Wonderland. Here the children climb and roll, bounce on mini-trampolines and try to walk across balance beams. Each week is a new configuration, and I’m always impressed with the instructor’s ingenuity at using the same tumbling mats and cheese blocks over and over again without making it repetitive.

Once each child has made it through the obstacle course a few times, we move onto open play, which also offers a new configuration each week. There’s a big trampoline that the children flock to almost immediately. Inevitably, a parent makes a hopeful comment about their child burning off energy and both of them taking an early nap. For parents with particularly active children, it seems like endless trampoline bouncing is the best reason to attend the gym in the first place.

Open play always ends with the same structured series of events: play on top of the big parachute, bubbles, play under the big parachute, one last song (always Skinamarinky Dinky Dink) and then stamps. The children get them on their hands and feet, and if they say please, one on the belly.

Finally, with our shoes and socks back on our feet and all of our belongings gathered, my daughter and I usually make one last stop before rejoining my wife and step-daughter: Bonjour Bakery. Here my daughter eagerly downs a chocolate croissant and a juice box. I sip an Americano and watch her spread chocolate across her face, quietly delighted to watch her grow up.