Well, as predicted, I had to skip one of the races I really wanted to do. The local half marathon that winds through my little city, that continues to evade me for the third year in a row. Two years ago I was also pregnant, but stil ridiculously sick all day and all night and no where near up to running 13 miles. Last year the kids had a Knowledge Bowl competition. This year the race fell victim to Knowledge Bowl again. Curse my kids for wanting to be involved in extracurricular activities and learn things!
(please note the sarcasm and spare me the hate mail)
This year was Taylor's first year participating, and as a sixth grader it's also his last. It was also Jacob's first year. And it was Alaina's third year, which is kind of fun because we can compare to how things have gone in the past and what she has learned about the competition and process along the way.
Plus this year their shirts were so bright we didn't have to worry about losing any kids, and they will make great emergency flags. Maybe they figured if they couldn't blindside the other teams with their knowledge, they would just try to blind them?
In elementary school there is a 5th/6th grade competition and a 3rd/4th grade competition, which meant that Alaina and Taylor were in the same group this year. We asked that they be on separate teams, which I think worked out well for both of them considering their differences in responding to competition like this. That meant that Aaron and I divided to conquer, so we switched off who watched what team.
I'm one of those horribly mean parents who like to watch my kids' teams get stomped at least once, just so they have the experience of knowing how it feels. It's a good chance to learn how to be a good winner and how to be a good loser. Not to mention how to better prepare for competition next time around.
But the darn pregnancy hormones did get me this year...after the first round of the 3rd/4th grade competition I was walking down the hallway and saw one boy who had just had the experience of his team losing horribly. Having been there with my own kids, it was hard to see him so hurt. And even after hurrying on by, I was fighting tears in behalf of this kid I've never met, hoping that he would have the chance to feel the happiness of being on the winning side too.
As much as I really wanted to do my own thing and log another 13.1, it was a treat to be there with my kids instead. There will always be another race, and my kids were reminded that with as much as their crazy mom loves to run, she'll always love them more.