Watching the Olympics is weird. First of all you know there are like hundreds of other events going on that we NEVER see. Like table tennis, have you EVER seen a table tennis game broadcast? So there are all these athletes who are winning medals, or not winning medals that we never hear about. And who decides what we see and what we don’t see? Is it just convenience? For instance do we see swimming because it’s easy to set up cameras and record one pool over and over again verses watching sailing? I don’t know. And can I just say that I was so annoyed (offended) that during the women’s beach volleyball game the broadcasters spent 15 minutes talking about their HUSBANDS. Really? You mean the game and the fact that they are Olympians was not material enough? And if it was male beach volleyball would we be talking about their wives? I think not. (yes, I was quite angered by this).
I’ve always been a bit of a “routine-nazi” with my kids. I do believe that children crave/need/desire routine and do best with a rigid routine. Where has it gone this summer? My routine has been tossed out the window. Between daylight savings time, travelling, out of town guests and the fact that Max outgrew his crib like 6 weeks ago our bedtime routine is non-existant. The result? It is 10:00 pm and both children and David are asleep in our king-size bed with no room left for me. Guess where I’m sleeping tonight? Lucy’s princess bed.
My birthday is next week. Birthdays are like summer vacations – they tarnish as you age. When you are a kid birthdays are a glorious day of narcissim where it is okay to only think of yourself, do for yourself, and want things for yourself. As you become an adult and then a mother you lose this. I can no more do only for myself on my birthday as I could fly to the moon. I used to LOVE my birthday in a real, passionate, child-like fashion for years – way into my twenties. Since I’ve hit 30 it has really been down hill. Now it is the one time of the year where I get to remember that I don’t have time to maintain any close friendships and that I’m slowly marching towards 40 in a way that seems depressing. My body is getting older which is unfair because I still feel like I’m 28.
Yeah, I’m tired, I’m grumpy – I’m going to go sleep this off.
Poor baby…I’m 50, heading to 51. I understand your dilemma. Eventually, you realize that birthdays are just “any other day”(quoted from my dad)and when you start getting REALLY old, you don’t want to be reminded because even at 80, you will still be 35 on the inside.
Dude! Good point on the husbands/wives thing. Maybe just a nod to the fact that it’s harder for women to “have it all”? Still maddening.
My parents call me the Nap Nazi. Routine Nazi works too. But, yeah, lots of life events (is summer a “life event”?) get in the way. Oh well. Change is good, right?
Hope your birthday is better than you expect! (Which shouldn’t be too hard, eh?)
Regarding the Olympics, you would think that in the one sport where the women wear bikinis the men could focus on them. What a disappointment. What is the problem with them? Are they all, to some degree, committed first and foremost to their gender?
Commitment to a routine, I was always jealous of those mothers who could do that. But you know what, they all (generally) turn out fine. Variety.
Birthdays. My big brother just hit 50, and it doesn’t scare me too much now. I guess the unattractiveness of the number 47 makes you ache for a significant number.