Amomamongmen’s shot at Olympic glory is upon us…

I’ve been in training. For years now, really. I guess I could have competed in the ’08 games, but I didn’t feel like I’d had the breadth of training experience that I’d really need to kick some serious international ass. Now, now, I’m ready. London 2012: Mothering Olympics: the Summer Games, slightly different than the Winter games only in their inclusion of cheering for crying toddlers at swimming lessons and their exclusion of the timed ‘dressing a preschooler for below zero’ competition.

These are my events for 2012:

Patiently Restating the Obvious: I’ve been training hard for this baby, my specialties are difficult maneuvers that take place in the shower and while driving. My trainers are ruthless and punishing and after years of grueling workouts I’m certain that I can score near perfect marks with my unending repetition of statements like these: “I don’t know what time Daddy will be home; I’m in the shower and I don’t have a clock in here.” Key here is the delivery and the dismount; those who want to stand on the podium pay special attention to tone and facial expression. I feel especially good about “I can’t pick up that lego piece right now; I’m driving.” If I can compete anywhere it’s in the car. If the competition moves to pets, I’m sunk. My dismount for “DON’T SIT ON THE DOG!!!!!” lacks key elements of patience.

Sustaining Meaningful Conversation with Children: This is a tough field. You’re going to find a lot of mothers here who have a lot more in common with their kids than I do. Mothers whose kids are say, female and have interests that don’t revolve around heavy weaponry and wrestling. Still, YOU will not see me staying home. I will be out there competing. I’m not going to lie, training got a lot harder when my trainers turned it up a notch by switching from The Harry Potter training regimen to The Last Airbender regimen which is basically just designed to weed out the pussies, of which I am not one. While the event requires that the conversation be “meaningful” it doesn’t require that the mother be fully engaged in it. I say, fake it, ’til you make it, right?

Advanced Read Aloud: I am seriously the Misty-May and Kerri Walsh of the Advanced Read Aloud competition, except that I don’t read in a bikini and there’s only one of me and I’m not hot. I own this event. Seriously, I am over a thousand pages and hours into the Rowling training method which guarantees gold. I have to give a shout out to my high school theater director Mrs. Clark for starting on the road to Olympic glory so many years ago. I’ve got such a wide variety of British accents in my arsenal that Ron, Hermione and Harry themselves know which character they’re interacting with based on voice alone. The only way I’m screwing this up is if some jealous competitor hires a goon to chop me in the vocal cords with a crow bar and then I become America’s sweetheart anyway, so win win, right?

Walking at the Pace of a 4 Year Old When You Have Someplace to Be: This one takes some serious training. All those athletes in London and their personal interest stories about how they have to train so hard to go so fast. That ain’t shit. They’ve obviously never spent thirty minutes walking half a block with a four year old that’s soooooooooo tired. The training is excruciating. At the end of every training session my mind is shot because of the mental effort that goes into this event.If you’ve seen race walkers, you may have some idea what it’s like. You can see that they’re walking so fast that they’re almost running and they’d be so much more comfortable if they could just run. This event is like that but different; you can see the strain on the athletes’ faces. Either they want to just take that step that would boost their pace up to a normal human walking pace, or just stop moving altogether. Either one would be more comfortable than what this event demands. It’s a sport for the mind: like chess. You’re going to see so many competitors drop out of this one; just pick up the damn kid, choose a normal place, get where ever the hell they were supposed to be ten minutes ago and kiss their Olympic dreams goodbye.

Bland Cooking for Those Precious Darlings with Self-Imposed Dietary Restrictions: Another one that I’ve got down. My final training test for this was a surprise; I should have known that my trainer wasn’t going to let me off the hook without one final task that would prepare me for either Olympic glory or crushing defeat. It’s become known in our little Olympic family as the Couscous Trials of 2012. I’ve been training so hard for this one for so many years and so carefully, so much of my training has become just everyday living that I guess I got cocky. That won’t happen again I can promise you that, not after my trainer proved to me that I may not have what it takes to win gold after all. I’d cooked that pot of couscous a thousand times, all within the training restrictions, it had become like second nature. But this time, I must have missed something, because he called me out, something fierce he did. In that clean pot that I cooked PLAIN couscous in PLAIN water in; I accidentally served my trainer a… black speck. In that moment I saw my Olympic dreams crash and burn in a blazing fire of six year old anger and hysteria an Olympic training facility hasn’t seen since John McEnroe did just about anything except make commercials for bran cereals. I got my shit together though; took some time for myself and reevaluated how badly I wanted this Olympic dream to come true. That and I made a lot of couscous.

Ass Wiping: In it to win it.

The Events I’m Not Particpating In: These are the events that I’ve got to leave to some other mothers. I trust that in their hands we’ll see nothing but gold for the U S of A!!!!


You do NOT want to mess with my trainers.

French Braiding, Multi-Tasking Soccer Mom with Several Heats of Car-Pooling, Marathon Breast-Feeding, Organic Snack Shopping, Vegetable Consumption Monitoring, Double Stroller Obstacle Race, Any event that takes place after 9 p.m or before 7 a.m.


6 Responses to “Amomamongmen’s shot at Olympic glory is upon us…”

  1. July 30, 2012 at 2:12 pm

    I will kick your butt in iPhoning while baby wrangling.

  2. 3 Linda Brown
    July 31, 2012 at 12:19 am

    This is so good – I wish more people had the chance to read it. Are you sure you don’t want to be a stand-up comedian? I am telling all my friends to read it. Mom

  3. 4 Amy Fewel
    July 31, 2012 at 7:23 pm

    Wish I had the same wicked sense of humor you do, my dear. Too funny!

  4. August 6, 2012 at 4:52 pm

    you crack me up. you are a brilliant, brilliant woman.

  5. 6 Amy
    August 29, 2012 at 4:24 pm

    Love it – I laughed out loud. I share this with all of my mom friends…

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now what’s that now?

what’s done is done


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