Olympic Fever

We are greatly enjoying the olympics in this house!

Ours is nearly a tv-free home.  We do own a tv.  Hub got it for Christmas in 2010. I recently cracked open the box and set it up in our bedroom so that I can do a rehabilitative postnatal exercise dvd.  Occasionally, when Elsie is asleep, we pull out a box set of nature documentaries and watch one on our computer.  Hub and I are David Attenborough junkies.  That's about all that we do, tv-wise.

Elsie gets the occasional youtube viewing of kermit the frog with us -- and whatever they turn on at daycare.  When she was a baby, Spanish soap operas were an integral part of the magical Colombian get-the-baby-to-sleep method.  Now that she's older, it's the end-of-the-day ritual when poor M is completely drained of energy and the parents are coming to pick up the kids.  What was on tv always figures prominently in Elsie's rundown of the happenings of the day at daycare.  The girl loves her tube.

It's no wonder that she loves the olympics so much!  Suddenly, her parents are streaming tv in little spurts all day long!  It's like a crazy tv party in our house, and she is eating it up. 

The beauty of streaming olympics is that we get to watch whatever is on -- not just whatever is popular enough to make it to prime time.  Don't get me wrong, I love the swimming and diving.  Love love love those water sports.  But sometimes it's fun to see all the sports I didn't grow up with, and after so many years of not watching tv, I no longer tolerate commercials.

Hub showed Elsie the rowing first.  He explained how a race worked, and what the people were doing in the boats.  Elsie listened with rapt attention, then turned around, gave him her most earnest look and told him,

"I can do that someday, when I'm older." 


"Sure, lady!"  He told her.

We watched some gymnastics, men doing acrobatics on those dangling rings.  The strength it must take is incredible!  My favorite was some old Ukranian.  Old enough to be gray-haired.  He was the crowd favorite, too, maybe because there were a lot of Ukranians in the audience, or maybe because he is old, or maybe because he was so damn graceful.

"I can do that someday, when I'm older."  Elsie told us.  I hate to break it to her, but I don't think women get strong enough for that particular feat.

Then it was volleyball.

"Bally-ball!"  She calls it.  "I can do that someday, when I'm older." 

We watched very tall women duke it out on a basketball court, and women with blond french braids play women with short, dark hair on a handball court.  We watched women with very fancy bows shoot arrows down a cricket pitch and into a bullseye.  We watched young girls twist and twirl and swing between uneven bars.  Every time, Elsie turned around and told us, very seriously,

"I can do that someday, when I'm older." 

This morning hub, who has been trying to get me into weightlifting for the past year, looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and clicked on women's weightlifting.  I laughed.  I can see where this is going.  Turns out, weightlifting is a riveting event.  Completely and utterly riveting.  These women were petite.  They weigh about 15 lbs less than I do, yet they were hoisting 100 kg and higher right off the floor and lifting it right up over their heads -- or, more accurately, dropping their bodies beneath it, pressing it up, and staggering to a standing position.  It was amazing, and I was completely emotionally devoted to every woman as she tackled her weight.  It was elating whenever they pushed the bar up and beamed under their barbells.

Right on cue, Elsie turned around, looked us right in the eye, and informed us,

"I can do that someday, when I'm older."  

Hub was very pleased about it.  "Of course you can!"  He told her.

For the past two nights, Elsie has been rowing herself across the smooth wooden floor.  "Racing!"  flipping herself around in somersaults on the chairs.  "Monkey bars!"  Throwing around her ball.  "Bally-ball!"  And, of course, hoisting a foam roller up above her head and beaming victoriously.  "Little girls liftin' up heavy things!" 

Later he checked in on the boxing, but it only took one swift punch to realize...

He changed the channel.  Wouldn't want Elsie punching Killian tomorrow at the park.  I can hear it now.  "Boxing!"