Back in March, I wrote a couple posts detailing everything I did during the day. It took about 30,000 words because my brain doesn't recognize brevity.
But thanks to the Olympics, I can tell you everything I did yesterday in six sentences.
8 - 10 a.m. Woke up, made the kids breakfast, steam-cleaned the floors.
10 a.m. - noon Watched the Olympics.
Noon - 1:30 p.m. Made the kids lunch, read "Anne of Green Gables" while M colored, put kids down for nap.
1:30 - 5:30 p.m. Watched the Olympics.
5:30 - 7:30 p.m. Ate dinner and took a family walk.
7:30 p.m. - 1 a.m. Watched the Olympics.
I'm not exaggerating. Sure, I did productive things while watching TV like sorting and folding laundry, organizing the endless paper pile and cleaning around the house.
But Madeline and I literally watched the Olympics for hours.
And then Joe came home and we literally watched the Olympics for hours.
I'm not a fan of daytime television (except for my beloved Judge Judy which, sadly, I haven't watched in a long time). I'm not a person who can just have the TV on in the background. I (normally) make sure Madeline gets very little screen time during the week.
But this year, I feel like I just can't watch enough of these games. With my pint-size best friend during the day, we're yelling and cheering on the kayakers. We're rooting for the tall and powerful volleyball players. We're learning the rules of water polo.
And since we're approaching the two-week mark of our quarantine, I'm completely fine with endless daytime TV watching.
Then there was today. Joe turned 30. The London Olympics are the 30th games. It was meant to be: The Mayes 30th Olympic Games.
Madeline and I took the idea and ran with it. I think we tied for who was most excited.
When Joe came home from work, the Olympic rings were on our front door. We had a birthday sign, balloons and the night's schedule in the front room. The event line-up was:
- balance beam (Made out of ribbons and masking tape in the hallway.)
- balloon beach volleyball (It's volleyball. With a balloon. Pretending to play in sand. Madeline and I totally practiced our skills during the day.)
- gymnastic jumping (Madeline lined up Caleb's stacking toys and we jumped side to side over them.)
- soccer (Unfortunately, threatening clouds rained out this event.)
- kick the can (Results with homemade ice cream in a coffee can.)
The winner would be bestowed with Madeline's preschool Indian medallion necklace. She was a participant but also head judge.
After a sweat-filled battle of skill and effort, Madeline declared Joe the gold medalist. I wish I took video of him bending down so she could hang the necklace around his neck.
I just have to say Joe is the best father and husband for going along with our game. I would have loved to give him a trip for his big birthday. Or buy an awesome bike or kayak. Or some technology with a little "i" in the name.
Instead, I gave him the Mayes 30th Olympic Games and he toed a ribbon balance beam and dismounted with enthusiasm.
I love this man more than I can express.
In true Olympic spirit, we ate like champions. I totally overplanned the menu. Too much food.
Mixed greens salad with THE salad dressing.
Then, with very fully bellies, we watched the ripped abs of swimmers and tiny, muscular bodies of gymnasts. We watched the Citi commercial in which athletes state their sacrifices to get to the Olympics.
"I haven't ordered dessert in two years."
"I haven't watched TV in months."
With a belly full of BACON-WRAPPED WATER CHESTNUTS, I realized, deep down in my soul, I have absolutely nothing in common with Olympic athletes.
But that chocolate cake sure tasted fantastic and I'm still never giving up on my dream to be an ice skater.