Sunday, August 31, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Isn’t Michael Phelps amazing?! Not only is he the greatest Olympian of all time, not only does he look a lot like my husband in form and face (though not nearly as attractive), but he seems like a genuinely nice guy. He was quick to give credit to the teammates who helped him win 25% of his medals doesn’t seem intent on tooting his own horn. Unlike…
Mark Spitz. I wasn’t around to see his golden races but his attitude for these makes me think I didn’t miss much. He seemed determined to turn every praise of Phelps back into a promotion of himself and reportedly was quite annoyed at not being invited to bestow the 8th gold himself. The person I would have liked to see put the gold around Phelp’s neck, however, is…
His mom! My favorite moment thus far in the games has been that shot of Debbie Phelps holding up 2 fingers for Silver, and then disappearing onto the floor when she realized her son won another gold. Because I’m lame I can’t find the video clip to link, but if you haven’t seen it you need to.
How gorgeous are the Chinese women who escort the athletes around the arenas and assist in the medals ceremonies? Their dresses are exquisite (again, too lame to find a photo) and I find that the more I grow to love my daughter, the more beautiful Asian features become.
Can dressage really be called a sport? And if so, shouldn’t it be the horse that gets a medal rather than the rider? It seems to me that anything in which a 64 year-old man can complete with athletes in their 20s or 30s, or a man competes equally with women (sorry girls, we really aren’t as strong) can’t really be all that athletic of an event.
Two sports I’m sorry to see go are baseball and softball. I wasn’t especially worked up about it until I found out the reasons: baseball doesn’t attract enough “stars” and softball attracts so many American stars that we’ve never lost the gold. Does that mean we should eliminate diving because the Chinese are so dominant?
I’m not normally a huge fan of Track and Field events, but this year I will be watching 2 races with interest: the woman’s 200 meter because of Allyson Felix, and the men’s decathlon because of Bryan Clay. Both are believers, and I have less than seven degrees of separation from both. Allyson attended the same High School as Danny and her father teaches at the seminary attached to our church, and Bryan’s wife is a good friend of my sister’s. So there you go – I “know” two Olympians.
Some Olympians I’m not sad to call strangers as a group are the sprinters, and the Jamaican’s have especially rubbed me the wrong way. They are remarkably talented… and remarkably lacking in humility. I know it’s wrong to judge based on those few moments we see on television, but they stand in stark contrast to so many others who seem to handle their success with grace.
How does anyone watch the games without a DVR? We watch 12 hours worth of broadcasting in 2! Just can’t imagine doing it any other way. The downside, however, is that despite our best efforts we often end up knowing the outcome before we get a chance to see it. Why is it that my MSN homepage has the option of hiding the results, but then plasters photos and headlines all over the rest of the page? I’ve gotten quite skilled at averting my eyes and rushing on over to Google or a Favorite.
Well that’s all I’ve got time for – the Olympics (and dinner!) are calling.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
First grade started today and Alyssa is in heaven! She nearly sprinted to the gate this morning and chatted incessantly about it during that short interval between picking her up and crashing into bed from sheer exhaustion. Blessed mom that I am, all three kids still take a good nap in the afternoon, so this new full-day schedule is going to throw a wrench into our routine. Parker and Alyssa will be okay (I think) waiting until 2:45, but poor Reagan passed out three times in the car while we were running errands, and then didn't have enough sleepiness in her when we got home to go down with the big kids. Just what is a mom to do when pick-up time is smack dab in the middle of nap time? Any ideas? I'm sure we'll figure out a new routine soon enough, but pray that it will include at least a little time each day to myself. Enough complaining though! On a more positive note, Alyssa's teacher seems great - very experienced, friendly, authoritative, and anxious to include parents in the classroom. I also find that I'm making friends! We already know 7 other families with first-graders at her school (that's about 7 more than last year), and they all speak English! There's still a great variety of cultures (including a couple of Asians - yeah for Reagan!), but I can actually communicate with the other parents. The pick-up spot is at the park adjacent to her school, so I think Parker, Reagan and I will really enjoy playing at the playground and socializing a little. I do miss summer, but I guess the start of school isn't all bad,
Monday, August 11, 2008
I had great plans for composing a few thoughtful posts while on vactaion last week, but instead I read 15oo pages, slept in, and spend hours in the pool with the kids. A far better trade off for me, but yet another photo post for you. Perhaps my brain will return when school starts again on Thursday... yes, this Thursday.
Friday, August 08, 2008
I am not a beach mama, so these pictures represent a rare concession for the sake of my children, who inexplicably love the sand but seemed a little confused about the purpose of our visit. Reagan seemed to think that the principle fun of the ocean is to sit and suck the cheese off of as many Cheetos as possible. Parker took the responsiblity of chasing the "ski gulls" away from our picnic very seriously. And Alyssa worked very hard to provide a continuous supply of sea water for feet washing and castle building, taking care to never actually touch the Pacific. At the top of my list was a public outdoor shower, plenty of Coke Zero, and a treasured opportunity to just sit and watch my babies play without distraction.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
My sister, "Auntie SaSa" to our kids, is a gifted hairstylist with only a husband and son's hair to play with on a daily basis. This less-than-cooperative sister likely shames her with my air-dry-then-pull-it-up-into-a-pony look, but my girls provide frequent opportunities for expression with a curling iron. Reagan wasn't terribly impressed with her curly locks, but Alyssa was all too ready to strike a pose.