The summer Olympics arrive during a season when I am usually too busy enjoying life to be glued to the television. This year, however, I was in a middle of a bad few months due to CF and found the summer Olympics a nice distraction for both myself and for Kay. It eased a bit of the mom guilt that surrounds not feeling well and being unable to go out and be as active as my four year old would probably prefer. I convinced Kaylee (and almost convinced myself) that watching the Olympics was more exciting than riding bikes because it only happens once every four years!
I haven’t actually watched the Olympics at all during my adulthood. Most of my Olympic memories are from childhood and even then I am not sure how much of them I actually watched outside of gymnastics. My fondest memory around the Olympics was the few weeks I spent watching gymnastics and then pretending to emulate them in my own, completely void of any skill, childlike way.
And as parenthood usually allows, I was able to relive that magic by watching my daughter pretend, in the same unskilled childlike way, to be an Olympian herself. I turned a blind eye to the wild spinning tumbles she took off the couch with each Olympic diver and the crazy obstacle courses she set up across the living room to run alongside the hurdlers. I realized once again how she really is my clone when we both witnessed the false start of a French hurdler who was immediately disqualified. Kaylee continued to bring up the “man that started before they said go” with great concern throughout the day and what I didn’t tell her, but she must have known, my heart felt heavy that day for him as well. Her bleeding heart she inherited from me.
The Olympics provided a nice ending to a summer that did not allow me to do the typical summer activities.I hope the next summer Olympics 2020 finds the same not so little girl tumbling around the living room next to her hopefully healthy(ish) mama watching by her side.