Olympic Dreams

Well, the Summer Olympics are over, but we certainly enjoyed them here. In fact, please don't tell my kids it's over. Their little hearts will be broken. When my Dad was last in China, he brought the kids stuffed mascots and they absolutely fell in love with them.


G. calls them "the Beijings" and takes his just about everywhere.

Now of course we are not oblivious to the obvious political and human rights issues that the Olympics have brought up. Personally, I don't think the Olympics should have been awarded to China in the first place, but the Olympics is big business and China has a lot of money. And manpower. But watching the opening ceremonies, I was awestruck and childlike as I soaked in the spectacle of synchronization and computerized images. I was powerless to cast a critical eye on the might of China as it rained down upon us with thunderous drums and adorable little girls singing like sweet songbirds. Oh, wait, she was lipsynching...the real girl was behind the iron curtain, wishing she had perfect teeth and hair instead of the voice of an angel...but really, is that important? After all, thousands of men had been practicing for weeks, months even, working their hands to the bone as they drummed over and over until they performed perfectly. And others had worked 14 hours a day, 7 days a week, moving boxes up and down in unison until they had it right. Who cares if they were forced to wear diapers and weren't allowed to eat? The point is, it's the Olympics.

Frankly, these athletes have worked their entire lives (14 years in the case of some athletes) to reach this moment in time and who am I to say they don't deserve it. They need me, sitting on the couch in my sweatpants cheering them on as they pour out blood, sweat and tears. Spoon in one hand, Haagen-Daaz in the other, cookie crumbs between the folds of my oversized tshirt - I am there for them, sobbing over the agony of defeat and the victory of....how does that go again?

Anyway, that leads me to my point. The Carmella Olympics. We finally chose a theme for her 7th birthday party and we ran with it. Not literally of course.

I just feel the need to point out that the flag was finished at 1:00 a.m. the night before the party. I don't know why I need to point it out, but there it is.


The first game - the Bucket Brigade. Followed by the sack race.


And then the classic egg-on-a-spoon.

And an obstacle course. I delighted in having the kids eat a donut off a string at the end of it. Nothing like introducing my friends kids to the delights of processed chemical-filled Hostess donuts. Yum. (Just kidding. I'm completely ashamed of myself.)



The kids with their medals.



All in all, a successful party. Every year I say I'll never do it again, I must be some sort of a masochist because I was so wiped out after this one. But it was worth it. The kids are still talking about how much fun the games were, so I'm glad we had such a fun theme. And they didn't seem to mind marching in place until they were perfectly synchronized. haha.