Month: August 2012

Back to deep Olympic thoughts

I spent most of Saturday catching up on all the Olympics I’d missed while we were in the midst of the birthday festivities. Because this is what the Olympics does to me. It makes me feel like at any moment I could miss out on the moment that will define sports for years to come and I’ll have to admit to someone that I deleted it off my DVR without even watching it.

Yes. I have a problem.

But I powered through and fast forwarded through some huge chunks of competition and I think I managed to see everything that was remotely noteworthy. And if I missed something then it’s really better that I don’t know about it because I’ve since deleted all of it off the DVR.

Here are a few observations I’ve made over the last day or so:

1. That men’s sprint thing? On the weird looking bikes? Why is the first lap so slow?

I don’t understand.

It’s the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen.

2. We fast forwarded through mens’ synchronized diving. P was in charge of the remote.

He also sometimes fast forwards through the personal stories and then I go back and watch them later because what’s the point of watching the Olympics if you don’t cry at least several times throughout the evening?

3. I felt terrible for Mckayla Maroney. And really all those vaulters that just busted their tail. Or their face in the case of that poor Russian girl.

I may start a conspiracy theory that the gold medal winner from Romania put something slippery on the landing mat that caused all her competitors to wipe out.

Considering we live in a world where people cheat at Badminton, it doesn’t feel that far-fetched.

4. On Sunday night Bob Costas actually said the words “Three hundred large” when referring to the price of an Aston-Martin.

You know what I don’t ever need to hear again?

Bob Costas saying “Three hundred large”.

5. That male gymnast from Chile totally looks like Napoleon Dynamite’s brother, Kip. I was on the edge of my seat waiting for them to flash to LaFawnduh cheering him on in the crowd.

But, alas, it never happened.

I think the biggest shock is that all this time I thought he’d been training to be a cage fighter.

6. I adore the U.S. women’s soccer team. Even if they did take minutes and perhaps even hours off my life during their game yesterday.

7. Every time they show Kate Middleton in the crowd I am overcome with hair envy. If there was a gold medal for hair she would absolutely win.

8. Did anyone else notice that Aliya Mustafina broke out in noticeable glee when Gabby Douglas made a “catastrophic” mistake on her uneven bars routine?

The look in her eye was reminiscent of Ivan Drago as he said, “I must break you” to Rocky in Rocky IV. Settle down, All About Eve.

9. This has nothing to do with the Olympics, but can anyone tell me why Snoop Dog changed his name to Snoop Lion last week and it actually showed up as a news headline?

Why does anyone take the media seriously? And why are we surprised that America is in a bad spot?

10. If you missed Missy Franklin’s interview with Bob Costas then I’m sad for you. Is it weird that I want to be friends with a sixteen year old swimmer? She has so much charm and personality.

And I hear she’s a decent swimmer.
Bring your good times. And your laughter too.

Well first I feel like I need to give a shout out to all the Oregon readers. Who knew I translated all the way out to the Pacific Coast? But there are apparently a few of you because you were all excited about the Olympians shoes that match the Ducks.

So, go Ducks.

And truthfully I’m just stalling because I’m overwhelmed at how to fit the last few days into one post. It’s going to be a long one. And possibly boring. Consider that your warning.

We have been in the midst of birthday extravaganza since last week. Somewhere Caroline adopted Gulley’s theory that everyone is really entitled to a birthday week instead of just one day. Or maybe I did it to her because she’s an only child and it’s not like I have to duplicate all this excitement two or three more times during the year.

So we have had a birthday week.

Really Monday and Tuesday were just the countdown. And then we met my sister, Amy, and her kids for lunch on Wednesday because they weren’t going to be able to celebrate with us on Friday.

That’s Caroline with Sarah and Luke. Luke is still a muppet and is going to be three in December which is just more proof that time goes by way too fast.

After lunch we all went over to Mimi and Bops’s house. Amy brought cupcakes for the kids and then Caroline opened her present.

It was a lava lamp.

A lava lamp.

And so now between the beads on her bedroom door and her lava lamp, Caroline is basically living out a childhood rooted in 1968 but with better technology. She wanted to put the lava lamp in the living room temporarily so we can all enjoy it as a family.

It looks just as classy as you would expect.

P was going to be fishing in a tournament on Caroline’s actual birthday so we had a little family breakfast birthday celebration on Thursday morning. We got her a new bike because she’d decided she needed a more sophisticated mode of transportation. Please note that this bike doesn’t have anything frivolous like streamers on the handlebars. Streamers are for eight year olds.

On Thursday we went out the Hyatt Hill Country Resort to spend the night. It was a great place to celebrate a birthday. We all floated the lazy river, ate too many s’mores and stayed up way too late. There was a moment about ten o’clock that night when Caroline wanted me to float with her down the river to look at the moon. It was just this gorgeous full moon and as we floated in that tube together and stared at the sky, I knew it was one of those moments I’ll remember forever. Not much is ever perfect, but that was about as close as real life gets.

The next morning we ordered breakfast in bed which was a real bargain if you don’t consider the U.S. dollar to be an actual measure of currency. And then we spent more time swimming and floating until it was time to head home.

We got home just in time to let the refrigerator repairman in the house to figure out why our fridge decided to hate us on Thursday afternoon. Yes. That’s right. The refrigerator and freezer decided to quit working right as we were trying to get out the door. It was super convenient.

Fortunately we were able to load everything into our outdoor fridge and freezer, but there was a gallon of Dreyer’s Chocolate and Peanut Butter ice cream that didn’t make it.

Let’s all have a moment of silence for that perfectly good ice cream that went to waste.

Anyway, the guy was able to fix it. Apparently something called the “relay” broke. I don’t know why you need to know that but I had no idea a refrigerator had a relay and figured we’d just blown the flux capacitor. But now if your refrigerator ever goes out you can sound really knowledgable and ask the repairman if he thinks it might be the relay.

You’re welcome.

Caroline’s Gigi came by and gave her a monogrammed robe for her birthday which has become her favorite new thing to wear around the house. I mean, she pretends it’s a karate outfit and practices kicks but at least she looks pretty doing it.

And then Friday night Caroline requested that we go eat dinner at the hibachi grill at Formosa Garden. She’d gone there for a friend’s birthday party several months ago and insisted that’s where she wanted to go with Mimi and Bops for her birthday. I honestly had low expectations because I don’t really like Chinese/Japanese/Thai food, but it was so much fun.

The hibachi chef was so funny, the food was delicious, and we all had the best time. Caroline never quit smiling.

I may want to go back for my birthday and I’m not even kidding. If you live in San Antonio and want to do something fun you need to go to the hibachi grill at Formosa Garden. It was a hit.

We came back to the house to have birthday ice cream. There was no cake because Caroline has decided she doesn’t like cake so we had ice cream instead. Mimi and Bops bought her Guitar Hero complete with a microphone and so we all gathered around the T.V. like the Ingalls family and sang some songs.

Or maybe we were more like the Partridge family but with better pants.

Jackson, Caroline and Will sang a few songs and then Caroline wanted Bops to get up and sing something. Bops replied, “No. Bops doesn’t really sing.”

She looked at him and said, “Please, Bops?”

And then it was like that SNL skit where Kristen Wiig says, “Don’t make me sing” while she’s clearly dying to sing. Bops took that mike and proceeded to sing all seventy-four verses of American Pie.

It will go down as one of the highlights of my life.

Which pretty much sums up how I feel about Caroline’s ninth birthday.

The good news is she feels the same way. On Saturday morning she hugged me tight and said, “Thank you for the best birthday I ever had.”

And then she put on her robe, turned on her lava lamp and began to sing Space Cowboy on Guitar Hero.

I might be raising a lounge lizard.

(Yes. Those are holes in my wall. It’s a long story that I’ll share when I have the strength and/or think it’s funny.)
Nine

Dear Caroline,

You are nine years old today. Nine. How is it even possible that we’ve already come to the last single digit year? Especially since we just brought you home from the hospital like two days ago.

I think the thing that has hit me the hardest about nine is when it dawned on me that nine is the halfway mark. In just nine more years you’ll be eighteen and headed off to college or whatever adventure God calls you to as you begin your adult life. And I have a feeling the next nine years will go by as fast as these first nine.

Excuse me while I go cry in the back of my closet.

The thing is that it’s okay. It’s how it’s supposed to be. Honestly, I love you more with every passing day because there is never a day that you don’t surprise me with some type of insight or an unexpected reaction or make me laugh out loud. You are one of the funniest people I know. I told you the other night that I think God gave Daddy and me a funny kid because he knew how much we love to laugh and I meant it. You’re hilarious.

I can definitely feel the shifting sand as we hit nine. I don’t know as much as I used to. I’m not quite as smart and my word isn’t always the final word. You have your own opinions and thoughts and you’re never afraid to voice them. It seems like there are more and more days where I find myself saying, “Just quit arguing and do what I asked you to do” or the less patient, sarcastic version which is “You know what would be a real novelty? If you’d just do what I asked and quit asking questions.”

Because while the infant and toddler years were physically grueling at times, this new stage sometimes leaves me biting my tongue until it bleeds or feeling like I have to bang my head against the wall until I either pass out or don’t care anymore.

Yet that’s just about the time you’ll do something so dang sweet I can barely stand it. You’ll crawl up in my lap while we’re watching T.V. or reach for my hand as we walk across a parking lot without even realizing you’re doing it. And then it feels like you’re three years old again and I soak in every moment of it.

And that’s what I love about you right now. You’re right in the middle of pure little girl sweetness with a little bit of pre-teen angst thrown in. The other day you asked, “Mama? Do you ever just feel sad sometimes for no reason?” I wanted to say “Get ready because that’s about to be one week a month for the rest of your life” but instead I just reassured you that we all feel sad from time to time and it’s totally normal.

Then there are the times that I can feel you try to manufacture something to be sad about. Like the other day when we passed a cemetery and you asked in a very solemn voice bordering on tears, “Do we know anyone who’s buried there?” And I quickly told you no because I felt the drama brewing. You’ve always had a knack for a little bit of drama. I think you come by it honestly.

About a month ago you woke up and the first question you asked that morning was “Mama? Am I almost at the end of my little years?”

Oh my heart.

Yes, you’re almost at the end of your little years. I read one time that the magical years of childhood are from age six until ten. So I guess if that’s true then you have one year left of the magic. But when I look at you I see someone who will always find the wonder in life. You will always find the magic because it’s just the way God made you. You live life with joy.

And you fill our lives with that joy.

Every day.

The greatest gift Daddy and I have ever known is getting to see the world through your eyes. We love you more than you’ll ever know.

Love,
Mama
I could win the gold medal for not caring

Sadly, I think I’m experiencing a bit of an Olympic hangover. Too many nights of staying up late combined with getting up too early has taken its toll on me. I’ve lost my Olympic fervor.

Or maybe it was just the synchronized mens’ diving that pushed me over the edge.

Don’t get me wrong, I realize they have worked very hard to perfect their skills and I couldn’t even synchronize doing a somersault on the living room floor with someone. But I don’t find it compelling T.V.

A friend of mine texted last night to get P’s thoughts on that event and so I asked him. His reply was that he was having a good cry and didn’t want to be bothered. He was either being sarcastic or was totally moved by the skill and artistry.

I’d go with the first option.

But I was excited to see Missy May and Keri win their match. And apparently I’ve lost some sense of boundaries since I’m calling them by their first names like we were college roommates or something.

And my heart broke for poor Orozco. I wanted him to do well and I feel so bad for any athlete that’s trained so hard and then doesn’t turn in their best performance at the most important time. I can’t even imagine.

Of course I loved the swimming. Caroline has even decided that she might want to be an Olympic swimmer. But then I asked, “So that means you want to do swim team again next summer?”

And she looked at me like I was crazy and said, “I don’t think so.”

Which makes me think her road to the Olympics is going to be long. Possibly never-ending.
Now with even more Olympic insights!

Well I have just watched four hours of the Olympics.

The Fab Five won the gold medal. Michael Phelps won his nineteenth medal to become the most decorated Olympian of all time. I sat on the couch and ate cookies.

Yet my adrenaline levels are off the charts. I have cheered. I have cried. I have lamented the day I quit gymnastics at age eight because I might have been an Olympian if I had just mastered walking across the gym floor without tripping.

I’m not sure how I’m ever going to settle down and go to sleep. So instead I’m watching Sweet Home Alabama for the 842nd time on the Oxygen channel.

It’s hard to pick a highlight of the night so I think I’m just going to give a quick rundown.

(Yes. Apparently this has become a blog solely devoted to Olympic coverage this week.)

(But only for those of you who aren’t looking for hard-hitting journalistic insights.)

1. The Russian female gymnasts love them some glitter. I’m not sure how you say “There is no such thing as too much glitter” in Russian, but I bet their coaches do.

2. I find it interesting that it’s 2012 and we haven’t found a better way to hold back hair than those plastic, bendy Goody barrettes that I wore in a series of unfortunate school photos from 1976-1982.

Do better, hair accessory industry.

3. Words can’t express how thrilled I was for Jordyn Weiber. She proved to have the heart of a champion when she bounced back from her disappointment on Sunday and helped lead her team to gold.

Her smile after she finished that first tumbling pass on the floor exercise was priceless.

4. I needed more of Aly Raisman’s parents.

5. Thank goodness Michael Phelps won two more medals and broke the record. I was afraid Andrea the poolside commentator was going to take him out back and shoot him if he failed.

She clearly graduated from the Journalism School of No Mercy and Bad Questions.

6. Caroline decided halfway through the balance beam routines that she needed to practice her gymnastics. Even though she quit gymnastics two years ago.

And then she spent the next hour twirling and jumping around our living room while intermittently stopping to stretch. I think Bela Karolyi would be impressed.

7. Without question the overstatement of the night goes to the gymnastics commentator who declared a mistake by one of the Russian gymnasts during the floor exercise to be “ABSOLUTELY CATASTROPHIC”.

I’d like to buy him a dictionary. And some perspective.

Your house falling in around you equals CATASTROPHIC. Failing to land a cartwheel? Disappointing, yes. ABSOLUTELY CATASTROPHIC? I think not.

8. Loved seeing the mens’ relay team win the gold. Not only did it help Phelps achieve his goal, but I think it gave Lochte a little bit of confidence back.

9. I did a back dive off the diving board at the pool today.

No. That technically has nothing to do with the Olympics.

But it was the closest I came to any sort of athletic endeavor and I wanted you to know. It helped offset the guilt I felt about eating the chocolate chip cookies. I’m almost forty-one and I can still do a back dive.

Which reminds me that I need to take three or six Advil before bed.

10. Is it just me or would anyone else really like a pair of those green tennis shoes that the Fab Five had on during the medal ceremony?

And did you watch their interview with Bob Costas at the end where they all said the earliest Olympics they remembered was 2004?

Wow.

I’m old.