The Olympics are over...The Today Show cast is back in New York, daytime TV is back to its usual boring self and annoying cartoons have taken over my airwaves. At the gym I am listening to music again instead of the TV and my favorite standout moments are already starting to fade. I would have done this post earlier so I remembered everything better but I found myself minus one two year old for two days so I couldn't stop with the productivity (between my last Olympic fixes). I have been searching for the last week for a box of 12 month boy baby clothes. I thought all the boxes of kids clothes were labeled and stored under the stairs but the 12 and 18 month boxes I found under there were missing things. Most noticeably the several fleece sleepers that I knew Ben wore at Milo's size were not in the boxes. I remembered some cute clothes that were also not there. I checked and re-checked and looked in closets and drove myself crazy. Justin said he checked the garage and didn't find anything. Well, he just checked for cardboard boxes and it turned out there was one odd PLASTIC box on a top shelf in the garage. When I blindly reached my hand in there I felt fleece. YAAASSSSS!
Finding this box inspired me to start packing up his nine month clothes (some are staying out because we have limited quantities of summer clothes in his size) which sent me spiraling down a rabbit hole of drawer cleaning, box condensing and donation pile making. Some friends I know are having a fundraising rummage sale in a few weeks so I have already been making a pile of my clothing and some household junk. This project took all weekend and was one of those things that makes such
a huge mess that if you stop and lose your momentum and see what you've done it can be overwhelming and a bit traumatic. Just the act of opening the door to the crawlspace under the stairs causes me to feel a bit panicked because it is completely full so I had to get this wrapped up with haste. But I'm satisfied with what I've done. I could employ a part-time clothes rotator in this house.
Milo is excited to be a "big boy"! Once unpacked that poor box made it to the recycling bin. I think it's been with us since we moved in 2013.
Here is a picture of Allan that I caught. He is wondering what the H3LL I have done to his usually pristine basement.
Of course, I made sure to watch the Closing ceremony on Sunday night. It was, as usual, filled with over the top excess, crazy dances and (in my opinion) mediocre music which I would never choose to listen to. I did, however, enjoy the several parrot themed dances and parade floats (I think that is what that is?)
I think I found my Halloween costume...now I can match Tessa!
After that performance, where the parrots formed various Rio attractions in marching band style, there was...ummm...some other stuff? The flags all paraded in and then the athletes came in. Some of them were carrying cups so I assume this really is a party for them and I would be all over that myself. If anyone has earned a night of drinking it is Olympic athletes. Then some dancers rode in on this float and there were singers...and dancers and athletes milling around and forming conga lines...
Then there was a fireworks display and it looked like the whole place exploded like an atomic bomb.
I think I'm blind.
Of course, there was the handing off of the Olympic responsibility to Tokyo, and I have to say that the prime minister of Tokyo seems like a good natured guy. He popped out of a vintage Nintendo warping tube like Mario of all things!
Here are a few thoughts that I still remember...
I watched an interview with Pharoah himself, Ashton Eaton and his wife Brianne Theisen-Eaton who is also an Olympic medalist in the heptathlon for Canada. They are the kind of people you want to hate because they are too perfect. But then...they were talking about their last days in Rio which they were able to enjoy as a vacation and how they travel all over to compete. They have a tradition of finding little trinkets from souvenir shops which they...wait for it...turn into ornaments for their Christmas tree. Gaaaaaahhhh I'm dying. I love them.
We saw a lot of coverage of the Jamaican track stars which is fun because they are some charismatic and amazing runners. I took a liking to Elaine Thompson. I hear that name and picture any number of Elaines and Thompsons. Our farm neighbor woman has a slight variation of that name in fact! But this Elaine Thompson is her own woman.
Those runners are something else...it's hard to believe they are real when their legs move so fast they are a blur. The U.S. and Jamaican rivalry is pretty fun too.
Here is the they are owning everyone else in the 4x400 relay.
Speaking of track, I saw a few disqualifications for false starts and other violations and...wow...how painful and awkward to watch. I saw one runner being told he was disqualified from his bronze metal on TV. He didn't know yet. Ughhhh. All the tears.
I watched the Men's marathon on Sunday morning, the original Olympic event which started it all in ancient Greece. I also saw the Ethiopian runner throw up his symbol of rebellion and read about how he may be killed along with his family when he gets home. Ummm...gulp? Someone help him? Once again, I'm so glad I live somewhere where athletes can clown around and grin on TV and express themselves and not have to worry about being killed even though they do dumb stuff like stay out all night vandalizing gas stations. It makes the ongoing swimmer nonsense seem downright stupid. It already was that. Ugh, Ryan Lochte...at least my main man Nathan Adrian wasn't involved it that nonsense.
See you in Tokyo, Summer Olypmics. Who knows where I will be in 2020. I will have an eight year old...I feel like I was just hanging out in 2000, sitting at the kitchen table at the farm, with Napster on the computer and a tower of CD-R's by my side as the Sydney Olympics played on the little kitchen TV.
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