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August 13, 2012

I seriously couldn’t get enough of the Olympics this year. It was great, and the summer Olympics always seem more fun to me. Paddling down fake rapids? Awesome. BMX? Pretty neat. Last night as the closing ceremonies were on and I was thinking about how silly track cycling is, it kind of reminded me of the Olympics I seem to do on the daily. And I still stand firm that washing, blowdrying and straightening ones hair should be an Olympic sport.

In the early stages of welcoming a baby into your home, there is a lot of adjusting. Since my trainer never did show up, it was something I was going to have to conquer and qualify for on my own. Lots of sweat. Lots of tears. Wounded. Scared…and on the world stage. I bring to you the events of the Momolympics. Take your mark…

The 4,000 Meter Stair Dash

We have 14 stairs in our place. That’s pretty much 13 too many. The good news is, I’m sure it helped drop the baby weight so fast, because I ran up them a million times per day. Once I fell down and slammed into the wall that’s halfway, which wasn’t too fun. Just another training hurdle. I got right back up and carried that laundry down like a boss.

Naptime Decathalon

The decathalon is the top event (in my eyes) at the olympics. Ten events, all testing the amazing strength, agility and gusto of the athletes. Well, Bruce Jenner. I will SHOW you agility and strength. There aren’t two days in the Momolympics. There are two hours. We start off with the put down. Lug baby up stairs, place in crib. Monitor on, door shut. Down the stairs to clean up the kitchen. Sweat. Chug some water. Two events in and the fatigue is starting to show! Switch laundry. Fold laundry. Feed cats. Pick up toys, because you don’t have time for hurdles training right now, and you’re too tired to push through an injury inflicted by tripping over the yellow truck. Chug more water, chased by a cup of coffee, lukewarm. Pay bills. Make some sort of nourishment to help power through the day. Pack diaper bag. Vacuum. Hear baby stirring. Oh no! Time is running down! Quickly dust, because that’s what your mom judges when she comes over (love you mom!). Unload dishwasher. Answer texts from husband. Baby is awake. Quickly put a load of diapers in the wash en route and hustle that ass up the stairs (again) to retrieve rested infant. Carry baby downstairs, and think of all of the things you still need to accomplish, and beat yourself up for not prioritizing better. (Ah, the life of a hardcore athlete. Never satisfied.) That was fourteen events. Pshhhh…discus. Whatevs.


This event is dedicated to my sister Kelsey. Laundry is her enemy. A battle of fabric lurking in the basement. Waiting. Growing. If you cloth diaper, there is a little more effort that goes into laundry. And since you’re now ‘at home,’ you might as well throw the husband’s laundry in there too. Two different kinds of soap. Fabric softener in some, not in others. Sort those colours, girl! Nothing gets me jacked up more than throwing on a little gangster rap on the iPod and pushing through an arduous round of laundry. Flex those laundry muscles. It’s our main event.

The Momgroup/Playdate/Shopathon

You will know other people with babies, and you will see them. And as awesome as it is to visit your friendlies with kids, you both know it’s a lot of work. The kids of the world aren’t all on the same schedule. You have to coordinate naps, and if you’re skipping one or just praying it will work out, you also have to plan for the backlash. (For example, screaming it out on the way home to Coquitlam from the border. Yep. That’s 45 mins, y’all.) Power that stroller into the car, and after 4 months of fighting with it, you have conquered it. Take that, Mountain Buggy. You will not unfold unless I tell you to! Wrestle that baby into the car seat, because no, he doesn’t want to be strapped in. Realize your hair is fuzzy because it’s so humid out, and you only had time for a partial blow dry. No one will notice those bags under your eyes, right? Did you put deodorant on? Decide it’s fine, and carry on. Arrive at destination, play & shop until meltdown ensues. Pick up infant, and make the mad dash to the car. Infant is crying. Traffic is slow. It begins to rain. But you can do this, you got it. You are strong like a bull. Cross that finish line (the driveway) like a champ and revel in your glory.


After completing the above event, and feeling all ramped up because you made it, you walk in the door. Waaait. How come there is no scent of an amazing dinner simmering away in the crockpot you so nicely placed together this morning? Oh yeah…forgot to turn it on. Throw kid in stroller and jog in the rain down to the grocery store to pick something up for dinner. Chicken? Again? Sounds great. Come home and prepare meal, while entertaining the baby who is also hungry, and cranky, because the nap didn’t happen that day. Muscle through it, and have dinner on the table for when your husband gets home. Again, proverbial medal is around your neck because you did it, again, without fail. Sigh, because that rice IS a little dry and you didn’t beat the world record. Try again tomorrow.


The final event of the day. It’s a long one. Patience is tried. There are tears. More sweating. And instead of throwing back a litre of water, you’ve moved onto a dirty martini. After watching child compete against themselves in the 100 meter butterfly in the tub, (serious points deducted due to splashing) it’s time for the wrestling/judo/karate moves to get them into their pyjamas. Unless you have a kid who can dress themselves…then you’ve got way more street cred. You’re a veteran olympian. My kid flips more times than a Russian on the uneven bars when I try to change his diaper. I’ve learned technique and finesse. A solid 9. Maybe a 10 if we count the fact that he didn’t fall of the change table. (And still hasn’t, to this day.) Raising a triumphant arm into the air! Then looking at it and realizing I should really be lifting free weights. Is that a bingo wing I see?? Fall into bed, shut eyes and think of all of the glorious memories you made that day. All of the gummy smiles and baby giggles. You did it. And you will do it all again tomorrow.

One Comment leave one →
  1. Cass permalink
    August 13, 2012 8:31 pm

    I’m only 11 days in and this sounds about right.

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