Friday, July 27, 2012

Hunger, Sweat, and Responsibility

I don't really have anything to tell you tonight.  Don't you hate those nights?

I noticed that school supplies are on sale.  It's too soon, like commercials for Christmas before Halloween.  There are political ads on too.  Don't they know that the election isn't until November?  Really.  Our ultimate disgust with these ads should have an affect on their very existence.  What a colossal waste of money, and all to generate enough annoyance that we remember a candidate's name. 

What I wish I could do for the next couple of weeks is buckle into my recliner and watch the Summer Olympics from beginning to end.  Even the commercials that profile some athlete or another is interesting.  I have things to do, a vacation coming, a quilt retreat, a party, a dog to walk, and more than a little bit of hauling kids around to different outings.

I'm too busy to watch from one hour to the next any more.

The year 2000, shortly after Nick was born, the summer Olympics were held in Sydney.  I was grateful for the delay.  Do you remember that they had to delay the Summer Olympics there because, at the time it was winter in Sydney?  Isn't that funny?  I think that's funny. 

I was up in the middle of the night a lot then.  What new mother isn't?  I remember being really sweaty for those first few months.  Nickie was hungry in the night and I learned to wake at any noise that remotely sounded like his cry.  That was the end of my sound sleeping.  I've been able to wake at the sound of a bare foot on the carpet ever since then. 

I remember one night, I sat with Nickie on the edge of the bed, contemplating moving.  I fell back asleep and the poor child began to slide out of my arms.  I caught him before he fell, but I can still remember waking with that jolt and it taking a while before I my heart settled back down to a normal beat.  I knew I was an awful mother, to be able to fall asleep with my baby in my arms. Not long after that, I learned that if I got snuggled into the recliner, he wouldn't slide off.  Once, I found him off to the side and not in my arms, but it was a far cry from dropping him.  Nick loved it.  We called it the momma bed.  When Mike did it, it was the daddy bed.  Nick has stopped climbing onto me but he still climbs onto Mike sometimes when he's tired.  Mike nearly disappears under his length now.  It's funny, as if he can still remember the comfort of that place. 

There were hours of sitting in my recliner with Nickie lying on my chest.  Once that boy was asleep, I didn't want to move.  He was a little colicy, can you tell?  I learned to have a blanket and the remote control handy.  Sometimes it got dark on us and I sat there in the dark waiting for Mike to get home.  Thank God for the Canadian channel.  They covered so much live Olympics, I had something interesting to watch,even at 3:00 am. 

I can remember the closing ceremonies from that year.  I cried with all of the athletes, but mostly because I'd be stuck watching infomercials and twenty year old reruns I didn't like when they were new. 

I wish, I just wish I could watch the Olympics that same way this year.  I'm afraid I don't have much time to sit in front of the television any more.  I know I'll watch some, just not quite as much as I want.

I'll be thinking about those athletes though, all those dreams crashing about in one city.  I'll always connect watching the Olympics with being sweaty, being hungry in the night, and having an overwhelming new responsibility.  It fits, doesn't it?

Thank you for listening, jb

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