I found out last night my daughter is scheduled to graduate May 20th.
MAY freaking 20TH, the same day I'm registered to do Buffman and Squeaky. I really, really wanted to do this race because last year I did this race and it took me four hours, and they were taking down all the equipment when I finished but Mike and Marti Greer, who are the best race directors EVAR left up the finish line for me and announced me as the winner of the Athena group (I was the only Athena in this race) even though I was still out on the course and DEAD FREAKING LAST with the support vehicle deiseling slowly behind me as I shuffled through the 10K. You can read about that here. And, I really wanted to see if I could beat my time this year.
So anyway, I was freaking out. This is what I've come to, the mother who's trying to figure out how to hop a flight from Lubbock to Dallas to see her only daughter's graduation from high school so she doesn't miss a triathlon. To add even more guilt, I should mention that my daughter receives special education services and has really struggled to graduate from high school at the age of 19. I'm immensely proud of her. She never gave up.
But between me and Travelocity, we couldn't make it work. You have to imagine my whiniest voice here as I said, over and over again, "I really, really don't want to miss this race!" Finally, I threw down my schedule in disgust and said, "that's it, I can't do the Squeaky Buttman. I can't miss her graduation from high school," all the while feeling resentful toward her, teenagers, high school graduates, whomever planned the graduation and triathlon dates, all race directors and the Dallas schools in general. And massive amounts of guilt for feeling that way.
MAY freaking 20TH, the same day I'm registered to do Buffman and Squeaky. I really, really wanted to do this race because last year I did this race and it took me four hours, and they were taking down all the equipment when I finished but Mike and Marti Greer, who are the best race directors EVAR left up the finish line for me and announced me as the winner of the Athena group (I was the only Athena in this race) even though I was still out on the course and DEAD FREAKING LAST with the support vehicle deiseling slowly behind me as I shuffled through the 10K. You can read about that here. And, I really wanted to see if I could beat my time this year.
So anyway, I was freaking out. This is what I've come to, the mother who's trying to figure out how to hop a flight from Lubbock to Dallas to see her only daughter's graduation from high school so she doesn't miss a triathlon. To add even more guilt, I should mention that my daughter receives special education services and has really struggled to graduate from high school at the age of 19. I'm immensely proud of her. She never gave up.
But between me and Travelocity, we couldn't make it work. You have to imagine my whiniest voice here as I said, over and over again, "I really, really don't want to miss this race!" Finally, I threw down my schedule in disgust and said, "that's it, I can't do the Squeaky Buttman. I can't miss her graduation from high school," all the while feeling resentful toward her, teenagers, high school graduates, whomever planned the graduation and triathlon dates, all race directors and the Dallas schools in general. And massive amounts of guilt for feeling that way.
Finally Sweet Baboo, whom I call the idea man, said calmly, "why don't you do the triathlon, and tell her you can't make it, and instead for her graduation present tell her you're going to fly her out here for a week. She's never been on a plane before, I'll be she'd be very excited".
And you know what, he was right. I called and asked her if she'd want to do this, and she's wildly excited and screamed a lot (the happy, hysterical teenage girl kind of scream) and doesn't care if I'm there for the ceremony, because flying out the week after school/work ends for me to spend the week with me is way cooler than just spending one day together. We'll do mom/daughter photos, lunches, the whole nine yards. (Sigh) Disaster, and worst-mother-of-the-year-award, narrowly diverted.
This is, of course, why I married him, and not some other, lesser, baboo.
...
And you know what, he was right. I called and asked her if she'd want to do this, and she's wildly excited and screamed a lot (the happy, hysterical teenage girl kind of scream) and doesn't care if I'm there for the ceremony, because flying out the week after school/work ends for me to spend the week with me is way cooler than just spending one day together. We'll do mom/daughter photos, lunches, the whole nine yards. (Sigh) Disaster, and worst-mother-of-the-year-award, narrowly diverted.
This is, of course, why I married him, and not some other, lesser, baboo.
...
