I write about my life and life itself seen through my eyes for who can write through the experiences of others if not their own?

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Breaking My Own Rules

When my kids were born I promised myself I would not be the typical mother and I have kept that promise in more ways than one. Besides greeting them with the typical

"you are ugly"
"but you smell"
"well, I can take a shower",

one thing I refused to do was broadcast how beautiful I thought my children were. Objectively I knew that even if to me they were the most beautiful thing on the face of Earth, to others they were a face only a mother could love. Now, 15 years later, I brag a little. Well, not totally since I only allow myself to do it on blog, the reason being that whoever, if anyone, reads it, they can silence me with a quick click of the mouse, it takes a lot more than that if I were in person.

My baby daughter who has now turned into the evil teenager raced a little when she was 5, she wasn’t fast at all but being so petite she got enough attention and cheers to keep her going, many anecdotes are filed in my memory bank of those times. Now, 10 years later, she shares a little bit of the passion her mother has, maybe for different reasons. She runs for the fun of it, for the camaraderie and why not, still for the attention she gets. Whatever the reason, she runs and that makes me happy.

When I attended her indoor track meet last December, she was in the slowest heat and I was proud regardless. She has since moved to the “fast girls” group and is now 4th with a PR of 20.40 for 3 miles. She is not National ranking fast and may never be but she is quick at reminding me that she is faster than I will ever be…she is right.

I see her come home with her gym bag every day after practice exhausted but excited. She talks about her workout but doesn’t keep track of her times. She talks about her girlfriends by name and I pretend I know who they are. On weekends she gets up early and regretfully I get up too to drive her to school for a cross country invitational of some sort. I am not allowed at all of them, just a few she has selected for me.

I haven’t attended any of her meets this season yet. Unlike track which is a merry-go-round of hard effort, cross country has two big moments when spectators and competitors meet, when they leave and when they come back. In between, I’ll look at my watch and hope like I did 10 years ago that she does well. And regardless, I’ll be happy.