Too Much Olympics Perhaps?

Last night Rainbow made herself a bracelet by knotting colourful embroidery floss.  It took a fair amount of work and when the strand was knotted to perfection she came to me to ask me to tie it on her wrist:

Rainbow: It needs a really good knot.  Do a double knot.  No…. Do a quad.

Me: A quad?

Rainbow: Yes.  Everyone should be able to do a quad.

The Olympic Message

I may have found an Olympic torch.  Or maybe I just got my kid an autographed picture of the gymnast in Kensington.  At this point things are a tad confused.  Stay tuned.

But I do have some thoughts on the Olympics that perhaps it may be timely to share…

Someone recently told me that they could not stand the Olympics and had a myriad of reasons for this, but among them was the suggestion that the message they give is to “win at any cost.”  Is that what you take away from the games?  That winning is paramount?  Or do you walk away with feeling that the underlying message to take away is that if you want something, if you believe, if you work for it and train for it, possibility exists?

Perhaps it is because I work very hard to focus on the positive possibilities in life, but my take on the matter is definitely “possibility exists.”  Those “Do You Believe?” television ads that aired in Canada for what felt like eons before the Olympics… I love them.  Because to me, the message is more than believing your athlete can win a piece of hardware for your country… it’s that some kid can see an athlete go for their dream.  That they can see sportsmanship and error.  That they can see where commitment can take them.  (Yes, they can also apparently see gold medalists drink straight out of a pitcher of beer, but we’ll just let that slide for the moment, ok).

Go for it.  Work for it.  Believe it.  And it can be whatever positive thing you want it to be.

Olympic Dreams

This weekend Rainbow participated in a provincial gymnastics tournament.  Competitions are never something I particularly look forward to.  While there is the possibility things can go very well, there is also the possibility that might not be the case.  In gymnastics, perhaps in particular, they combine the children who train only as an extracurricular school activity (as Rainbow does), with those who attend a gymnastics academy and apparently train at least 5 hours a week. Nonetheless, my girl was 4th in her school and made the provincials, so off we went to Kensington.

There were many many people there.  And by that I mean other parents were sitting practically in my lap.  As luck would have it, the woman to my left had drenched herself in perfume.  The good news is I have discovered a migraine trigger.  The bad news is that her perfume was it.  So for four long hours, I sat on hard wooden bleachers, getting sicker and sicker as I did.  By the time they got to the awards, I was in very bad shape.

Now before they presented the awards they had a guest speaker – a man whose name escapes me – a gymnast on Canada’s national team who hopes to be in the 2012 Olympic games.  He was injured, so did not perform, but spoke about what the Olympics meant to him, and brought with him a “special object.”  He brought an Olympic torch, and he offered the children the opportunity to have their picture taken with it after the awards.    The potential-future-Olympian then handed out the awards, and I was able to part ways with my fragrant neighbour.

I searched and searched for Rainbow, and she searched and searched for me.  When finally we found each other, we headed out to the van, and to home, where fresh air and medication awaited my throbbing, blurry brain.  And as we journeyed home she mentioned it… something I was too sick to consider at the time… she did not have her photo taken with the torch.

She is heartbroken.  And I am sick about it.

I will never be an Olympian, but I now have an Olympic mission.  I need to find an Olympic torch. I just need it long enough for my baby to be photographed with it.  I really need to find this thing.  If anyone has any suggestions as to how I can make this happen, I’d love to hear from you.  In the meantime, I will add Olympic rings to the visualization wall, and send up a prayer that fate smiles.

Photo and torch by Rainbow 🙂

The Sock in the Hat

It has been bitterly cold here of late.  Like minus a million degrees.  So, while most times I do enjoy a good stroll to work in the morning, I admit I find it a chore when the weather actually hurts.  And there were some walks this week that did hurt.

So, while shopping for something completely unrelated, I was delighted to find this hat:

Yes.  It’s ugly.  But it’s warm.  And was $4.  And I bought and wore it with no qualms whatsoever.  I call it my lumberjack hat.

So, in view of the recent cold, I bought each of my girls a new hat for an early Valentine’s day gift.  Now their’s was not the cheapie lumberjack chapeau shown above.  No, they got cute and trendy animal hats from the high end store.  And if they weren’t photo shy at the moment I would show you how cute and adorable they look in them.  Rainbow’s is a bear, and Dolittle’s is a mouse.

I had this conversation with Rainbow this morning:

Me: I quite like my new lumberjack hat.

Rainbow: Your what?

Me: Lumberjack hat.  The one with the flaps.  It’s very warm.

Rainbow: You know, they maybe used to be called bear hats, because the flaps used to have bear fur on them.

Me: Really?  Well I then I think mine is an albino muppet hat.

Rainbow responded with a look which I cannot even describe.

Me: I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Jack Frost* festival this month? (*a winter children’s festival held here in February)

Rainbow: (without hesitation) No. Thanks.

So, now I’m left wondering… have my children outgrown a children’s festival (which is a possibility)?  Have they just had enough of this darn cold?  Or are they somewhat mortified of my new bonnet?