Although no one would ever call me an athlete, telecasts of the Olympics keep me up way too late every night.
A more self-disciplined friend records the events that especially appeal to her family. Her daughters love to watch the gymnastics, over and over. They're the right age to imagine themselves on that scene, blissfully ignorant of what it costs. You'll hear Olympic athletes say, "I've dreamed of this since I was a young child."
That dream--and loving, supportive parents--sets the wheels in motion. If you've listened to the interviews and commentary, you've heard the accounts of families moving across the country so their would-be Olympian could have the best training. One couple mortgaged their home twice to cover the costs. Their family caught Olympic fever, and it took over their life.
I've been thinking a lot about goals. Sometimes we don't realize we're working on one, don't name it as such. But anytime we direct our efforts and energies in one direction, that's a goal. These can range from the sublime to the silly. To want to be a great mom is a great goal. To expect your kids to always make you look good is silly.
For our kids and ourselves, the trick is to hang onto reality, but not to rain on the dream. So we search out what's achievable, what fits who we are. Not one of us is stamped out of a mold. It's unfair to think one child is like the other and look for behavior or temperament qualities as if they were. We are, each of us, created unique--and aren't you glad? We are "fearfully and wonderfully made." (Read Psalm 139 and be reassured.)
The earlier we plug in that little truth, the happier we'll be, and so will our kids. Remembering that colors what we expect, how we evaluate each one and each situation. Or it should.
So let's applaud the Olympic athletes, those amazing physical specimens, as well as their loving parents. But out here in the real world let's accept ourselves and our children as we are. Let's set real world goals that help us grow while keeping our feet firmly planted in reality.
Anything else is madness.
Here's to appreciating who we are--and each of our children, too.
Lenore
