The hardest job is the best job

Does it seem like I have every other week off? Because I just read my last blog post, which was a summary of my July vacation, and I was all set to write about my most recent vacation. I had a few days off last week. We went nowhere. It was awesome.

We took a couple family bike rides (one a success by Edie's standards, the other a rainy failure), danced and colored, finally did some back-breaking, sweaty yard work, saw a visually and audibly impressive Wilco show, and watched ample Olympics.

Of course I love watching the standard events, and I don't mind the eye candy in a swim suit (I'm lookin at you, Lochte), but I also love watching the parents of the Olympians. I get choked up whenever the camera cuts to them. They are usually decked to the gills in Americana (flags, pins, anything red, white and blue). Are most of them from middle America? A lot of them have that Glamour Shots look, but I appreciate. Their emotions are usually spilling forth. I can empathize with their agony watching their kids, who happen to be the most elite athlethes, perform on a world stage. So of course, I love all the P&G ads dedicated to the Olympic moms.

This, from the P&G web site: Because moms give everything to make their kids′ dreams happen. They carry us for nine months and then keep on carrying us. Through countless sacrifices, they are not only loving nurturers and selfless prodders and motivators, but also alarm-clock setters, chauffeurs, doers of laundry and dishes and makers of breakfasts, lunches and dinners.

I didn't intend for this post to veer into cheese-dome, and I'm a far cry from Olympic calibur, but my mom attended every swim meet, softball, and field hockey game, packed sandwiches and hand-me-down snowpants into our trusty Volvo for many afternoons at Ski Sundown (yes, after work), and was a dogged supporter of any sport my sister and I ever caught wiff of.

After quitting t-ball (I was 7), quitting swimming (age 14) and quitting field hockey (16), it turns out I'm not the best team player, but I've really embraced being an athlete as an adult. So I raise my glass of chocolate milk to my mom!