Tag Archives: Olympics

How Motherhood Wins the Olympics

We love the Olympics. The athleticism, the pageantry, the speculation! Who is going to take home the most gold? Will it be the USA? Maybe the Cayman Islands? (Seriously, this British Territory has a slalom skier.)

But let’s think outside of the box because quite frankly, it will take our minds off of Bob Costas’ oozing pink eye. What if Motherhood was its own country?

We have our own currency: Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Our own conflicts: Mommy Wars.

Even our own traditional costume: Yoga Pants.

We challenge that Motherhood would sweep the gold and hog the podium. And YOU would be the decorated athletes.

“But Ellen and Erin, how would we find the time to train since we can’t even find the time to shower?” you ask? O ye Olympians of little faith, YOU TRAIN EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

Winning ALL of the Olympic Gold at Sochi: Motherhood

Curling

Sweeping frantically to try to get a stone in a circle.

Seriously? Sweeping. Um yeah, we got this. Next!

Skiathlon

Cross-country skiing in a loop for 15 km.

Monotonously traveling the same path over and over again until we collapse from shear exhaustion and boredom? Motherhood defined!

Figure Skating

The competitive sport of ice skating in prescribed patterns and incorporating jumps.

Okay, we’ve got the jumps and spins down. Wrangling toddlers and avoiding Lego pieces keeps us on our toes. And just look at our friend Frugie from Frugalista Blog vacuum. She is indistinguishable from Ashley Wagner. This woman deserves a 10.o for pageantry . . . or at least for comedic genius.

There is so much more where this came from. Click here to see them because you DESERVE to see Frugie conquer her Nepresso machine. DESERVE!

Ice Dancing

A form of ice skating incorporating choreographed dance moves.

What says Motherhood more than tight asses, perfect hair, and adorable outfits. Wait . . . BWAHAHAHAHA!

Luge

Sliding at high speeds on ridiculously small sleds on a special track of artificially frozen ice.

We’ve got this. It’s actually the perfect metaphor for Motherhood. Nothing reflects the stomach-turning, heart-pounding aspects of parenting like hurling yourself down a track at 80 mph. Retrieving toddlers from chandeliers and open grates or teaching a teen to drive is Olympic quality training right there.

Speed Skating

Form of ice skating in which the competitors race each other on skates.

This is supposed to be difficult? Skates would only make our scrambling from place to place easier. Peshaw.

Ice Hockey

Team sport in which skaters use sticks to shoot a hard rubber puck into their opponent’s net to score.

Oh, we understand intensity, blood, and brawls: Every PTO meeting has honed our skills. If we can convince Peggy Pinterest that chocolate cupcakes made from a box are just fine for the bake sale, getting a puck past a goalie is no big deal. We also know how to throw a few elbows if the need arises.

Motherhood has prepared us well for life beyond sleep deprivation marathons, toilet training, and lunch packing. Dare we say it has prepared us to be champions? YES, WE DARE! So kick Canada off the podium because Motherhood not only has the skills to sweep the gold medals, we can Swiffer that podium, too.

Anyone know how we can get Multi-Tasking named an official sport for the Summer Olympics?

-Ellen and Erin

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The Olympians of Bloggers

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We are the beach volleyball team of the blogosphere. The Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh Jennings of writers, if you will.

Okay, eyes up here. By the grace of Neptune we wish we were bragging about our abs resembling their epic washboards, but alas, our metaphor goes deeper than that. Almost as deep as you would have to spelunk to find our own mythological six packs.

No, we have a team approach, like script writers, to our writing. How to answer when asked if we record and transcribe our conversations? Um, no, hell no, and you’re welcome.

Topics for posts are buried in our conversations like treasures lost on a beach. We diligently mine for them like metal detector toting geriatric bounty hunters. For example, this was shouted during a recent conversation, “Wait! Remember an hour ago, when we were talking about how you bunched everyone’s panties by ferociously proclaiming your hate for Andy Griffith? That’s our next post!”

There’s the serve.

“Well, it’s your bright idea, how are we going to start it?”

Bump.

“I’ll text you when I get a framework on the site.”

Ball hangs in air. For this piece you don’t need a suspension of disbelief, you need a suspension of gravity.

‹Droid› emanates from a phone at 6:00am heralding the message, “I started it and wrote in placeholder parts where I heard your voice. Tag you’re it.” But really it’s not a phone, it’s Ellen’s phone Droid-ing. Erin is Miss Rise-and-Shine-Grab-the-Worm-by-the-Tail-Work-at-the-Crack-of-Ass Morning Person.

So squeezing in writing around life, Ellen writes in her parts and bounces it back. At 11:30pm.

Dig, ball hangs in air again, gravity be damned. By 9pm, Erin winds down like a doped athlete who’s lost her dealer.

Ellen knows a 6:00am “Droid” is coming…

“Loved it. Polished it. Can you picture it up because I have three separate soccer camps to shuttle to today?”

Set.

We Dub This One “Accurate”

“It has pictures, it is proofed, and it is scheduled to publish for next week.”

Spike and score!

Okay, we seriously pulled the visors over your eyes on that one. We generally finish posts about 30 minutes before our self-imposed publishing deadlines; just part of our rhythm of cooperation.

If you’re keeping score, that’s about 60 hours of bouncing back and forth, editing, and haggling over dialogue like seagulls squawking over sandwich crusts.

Practice has made the process more fluid, but it wasn’t always so. Let’s turn to the highlight reel.

“Did you really take out my perfectly good simile and compare me to George freakin’ Burns?”

“So you drop in commas like a unicorn farting glitter, but sentence fragments are okay?”

“You put the word “niggled” in MY mouth!?!”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with it, just make it better.”

We practice, we improve, we write. Toss our medal out for the bounty hunters to find because we really just want some love from the crowd…and some yoga pants. We need to cover our assets because it’s getting sandy all up in here.

Ellen and Erin

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Proclaimed while watching the Olympic equestrian events. There was more than a little outrage over the horses doing all of the work and the riders getting all of the credit. And just like that, the lively discussion left the gates.

What she said.

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