Need More Cow Bell…

Obviously my February NaBloPoMo was not a success. I missed one day and that was it. Priorities… If I wasn’t at an Olympic event, celebration or ceremony, I was lounged on the couch, with beer, watching them. There was no time to write. Or do housework. Time to get caught up on both today. Without the beer.

We finished off the Olympic celebrations yesterday with a trip to Whistler to watch the hockey game live on the big screen in village square. We really hummed and hawed about going. Two kids and 3 hours of hockey, potentially in rain, is not the best combo ever. Thankfully we went because it was AMAZING! Both Kaya and Brennyn were troopers. True to their personalities, Kaya lounged in the stroller and eventually napped through the third period, overtime, and the anthem. How do kids do that? It was LOUD. Like really, really LOUD. Screams and cheers and cow bells non-stop. Of course, she is used to her daddy, the loudest cheerer and incessant cow bell-ringer directly in all our ears guy we ever did know. So yah, she snoozed.

Brennyn started to fuss so we thought we’d turn her face in in the Baby Bjorn, throw a blanket over her and wiggle her to sleep too. That was not at all what she wanted though. No, this girl likes to party. She is her father’s daughter for certain. So she turned back around in the Bjorn, facing outwards and kicked and giggled and waved her little Canada flag (okay, chewed it but that too is patriotic!) through the entire game.

Man, that hockey game was intense. Stressful. Exciting. THE MOST IMPORTANT GAME OF OUR LIVES! We should be swigging beer and staring intently at the screen. Instead I am running to the grocery in the 2nd intermission to get more baby food. Brennyn plowed through the two containers I brought. Then through the beginning of the third, I’m holding her while Bal is feeding her. Amongst hundreds of others, piled in the square, nary an elbow to move an inch here or there. Poor love, about 50% of that banana-apple mush went straight up her nose, maybe even in her ear. Bal kept peering up at the screen and she’d have her mouth wide (WIDE) open while trying to maneuver her way to the spoon he was haphazardly holding around her face. It was all good though. She was fed and ready to party some more. And party more she would with that bloody 25-seconds-left goal by the US sending the game into OT. Can you say Collective-Canadian-Heart Attack? I’ve never heard such insane frenzy turn simultaneous gasp turn deafening quiet so swiftly before.

But then Crosby scores and all is right in the universe again. I scream so much I sound like I used to after a night of smoke-filled bars and copious amounts of booze. After belting out the anthem with millions of others, Blue Rodeo comes on stage in Whistler. I love Blue Rodeo. So Canadian. So appropriate. Belt out a few of their tunes and then things start turning raucous. Pot is everywhere, champagne bottles are being sprayed, people beginning moshing. It’s time to get the kids out of dodge.

On route to a pub for a celebratory beer with friends, we pass Bobs and Lolo singing kids songs. We stop of course and I can’t help but laugh at the change in our life over the past 4 years. Still, we could have chosen to stay home to watch the game as it would have been much, much, MUCH easier for the girls. Easier for us to deal with the girls. But we chose to go. And what an experience it was. They won’t remember it but they will always know how they participated in the Vancouver 2010 Olympics. They will always know they were there. They were in it. They were a part of it. And that life experience is invaluable.

Now it is over. The TV is OFF. The cow bell being put away. Cold turkey Olympic detox. Probably for the best anyways. Another beautiful montage of triumph and patriotism could only end in what I like to call ‘the ugly cry’ and I am tired of crying. And tired of explaining to Kaya the difference between sad tears and happy ones. For that was an all too common scene in our house.

Pick a montage, any montage.

Me: weepy tears

Kaya in her worried tone: “Are you happy mom?”

“Yes Kaya. Weep, weep, sob, sob. These are just so, blubber, blubber, beautiful…”

Whereby she looks at me like I am completely insane because ‘like duh mommy, tears are when you are sad and smiles are when you are happy’

Whereby I can not explain through all the blubbering so I put on my fake smile and spin her around til my tears are dry and I am about to vomit and then she has a whole new face to decipher and decide, very early on if you ask me, that I will most likely end up in a loony bin.

Anyways, goodbye Olympics. Goodbye cow bell. It was an amazing ride.

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