Bad mittens and diving towtrucks

There are days, many of them in fact, in which I feel that there should be some sort of medal given to the moms, dads, and caregivers who chase after, nurture, instruct, feed, and did I mention chase? young ones all day long. Its a marathon of its own kind, with a grueling training regime, very little coaching and no definitive "event". No awarding of medals, national anthems or bragging rights, no studio sessions with Bob Costas or Leonard Holt visiting your playgroup and interviewing small children who admire you and call you a hero.

Which is totally appropriate.

Of course, parenthood is an experience to which competition never adds value. We must each accept our own strengths, enjoy the journey and not focus on besting anyone on any day. Besides, it would be impossible to handicap appropriately, what with cultural differences and all.

Our family is really enjoying the 'Lympics this year. Mr. Wonderful and I were so impressed with the Opening Ceremonies that he even carried a half-asleep Max to the couch to snuggle with me and watch part of it. It was a beautiful moment and I will remember the '08 games differently because of it. Max will remember it because it was the first time he got to see prime time commercials (Hello, Budweiser? Or should I say Bon jour? Yeah, your beer and your commercials suck. Thanks, er, Merci non).

Last night they wanted to stay up to see 'Nastics. So I popped some popcorn, gave them pedicures and offered to braid their hair, but they didn't like that. Sigh. We watched synchronized platform diving and Sam squealed with delight when the men dove backwards, shouting "Bah-wood di-ing, Bah wood di-ing May-ER!" which translates into "Backwards diving, backwards diving..MATER!" over and over again. Max picked up on my vocabulary (a habit that's become quite dangerous) and morphed my "Holy Guacamole" (I'm trying to be good) into "Holy Cock-a-moly!", which takes a bizarre twist when you watch these men in very tight itty bitty Speedos showering together between synchronized dives. Maybe the generic cursing would have been a better choice.

After breakfast this morning the boys wanted to watch Curious George, and since our t.v. is generally only tuned into PBS, I didn't even bother to check the channel after I turned it on. As I was loading the dishwasher, Max yelled out, "Mom, I think the bad mittens are on again." I see color commentary in this kids future for sure.

I think I'll pass on Archery today.



Opening Ceremonies, Beijing Summer Olympics, 2008