SimplyMom: Gold Medal Parenting

Posted by Mary

Since Friday, all eyes have been on Beijing, as athletes the world over compete in the 2004 Olympics.

I’ve been watching the trials, reading the news reports, even examining the commercials that laud the brightest, the best, the toughest, and the talented. I see little girls jumping heights, swimmers speed through chlorinated waters with the urgency of Flipper on a rescue mission and precision divers split the water with nary a splash.

And I have to think: so what?

Don’t get me wrong. I love the Olympics, the whole competition and camaraderie
of it. I still feel a thrill I hear the national anthem and watch our flag being raised above the podium of a proud, tearful and often exhausted athlete.

But why do we limit our national pride to athletes who, in four years, will just be the answer to trivia questions or faces on faded Wheaties boxes? I think we should be giving the gold to those who are in training 24/7, those who can navigate the tricky waters of infancy without directions, paddle that upstream ride through adolescence, and whose reward is often a victory lap in the even muddier waters of puberty.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Mommy Olympics.

Think weightlifting is tough? Well, try lifting that weight from the inside. That’s what moms do during pregnancy, lifting a weight strapped to their midsection that gets increasingly heavier as the event goes on. And, for extra bonus points, that weight is moving. Weightlifters may work up a sweat, but at least they get to put barbell down and chug Gatorade between events. To put down their weight, moms face a day of labor – and are only allowed ice chips.

We all applaud the guy who’s fastest around the track, but never give a second look to the woman who’s maneuvering a shopping cart and two toddlers through the aisles of a supermarket. The runner, of course, can just dash freely, knowing only other runners are at his heels. The mom? She has to stay within budget, successfully match coupons to purchases, and dodge an endless stream of “Oh, mom, can we please?” while keeping her charges (monetary and offspring) under foot. And for at least two years, she does it with a child in diapers, which at any given moment may or may not smell.

I love watching gymnastics, which seems to be the perfect blend of beauty, grace, skill and movement. But let’s be real here. Sure, it takes power to fly over around uneven parallel bars, but that’s nothing like a mom flying from her job to make it to her son’s never-conveniently-scheduled after-school soccer game. There’s no spotter when she vaults over backpacks, lunch boxes and dirty laundry to make her way across a child’s bedroom. And there’s no end to the balancing act she performs as she helps with homework for three different grade levels all in a single hour.

And the triathlon? Sure, it takes a lot to swim 1500 meters, cycle 40 kilometers and run ten more – all without a break. But, then again, a mom goes from nine months of pregnancy to a year of infancy, two of toddler-dom, a long stretch of childhood, right into adolescence, puberty and early adulthood. She doesn’t get a break, she rarely gets a vacation; in fact, sometimes getting a minute to go to the bathroom with the door closed seems like an impossible dream. Oh, and she grows older as she goes along, making each leg of this lifetime race even tougher to run than the last.

There’s no applause for a basket of well-folded laundry, no reward at the end of a well-cooked meal, and no one saying, “Well done” at the end of yet another hard day. The only reward is knowing you’ll get up tomorrow and do it again - and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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SimplyMom: Gold Medal Parenting

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