Then something different happened. I had been feeling a little sorry for myself leading up to this Olympics. Last time around there was such excitement given they were being held in our backyard (well, almost). And in the years before the Vancouver Games I always had some combination of kids at home, and we loved watching the Olympics together.
When they were young we would put our regular homeschool work on hold during the Olympics and turn the event into a learning experience. We studied the country where they were being held, worked on geography (colouring the various participating countries' flags was a favourite activity), and read stories that related to the Olympics and sports. I distinctly remember all those years ago projecting into the future, thinking how sad it would be once they were grown up and that stage of learning/living/loving was past.
And you know what? I was right. I was kind of sad when the Opening Ceremonies started and there were no little people sitting around watching, crayons and markers in hand, filling in the maps of the countries marching by. I'm not the kind of person who spends inordinate amounts of time with both feet firmly planted in the past. But every once in awhile something comes along, something like the Olympics, that brings back those precious memories from years gone by and leaves me feeling more than a bit nostalgic. This morning, watching the coverage from Sochi, was one of those moments.
But you know what? Right after the Canadians marched in came the Chinese.
Then the Koreans.
Thailand (yes they really do have an athlete in the Winter Olympics).
And last, but not least, the Russians.
And there's a new little person who will soon be colouring with crayons and markers.
I sure hope she likes flags!