I think that if I had been a world-class gymnast, my strength would have been in the floor exercise. Why? Because when I was eight, I claimed our family's living room to be my stage for my floor routine. I imagined the cameras on me, the judges with their notepads in hand writing down, "magnificent", "brilliant" as they watched my impeccable performance. I felt the anticipation of getting it right, or rather, "sticking it" on my first attempt. Most importantly, I did NOT want to disappoint my country and certainly not my parents. I would practice and practice until my routine was flawless. Mind you, this is coming from a girl that could never master the back flip. Even at age eight, I knew in the back of my logical head that I could break my neck (I was a smartie when it came to personal safety and preservation). In fact, it was highly probable given my inability to bend. I could barely do the splits, but boy could I do countless cartwheels and round offs. I knew my strengths. All this practice was in hopes that one day my hard work and efforts would be recognized as I finally, and rightfully, won gold.
Sadly, that dream never came to fruition... along with a few other goals that my eight-year-old mind was convinced it would obtain. Like, obviously, being crowned Miss America. Then there was the dream of being the world double-dutch rope jumping champion and, my favorite, the president of the Donny and Marie Osmond fan club. "...Hey my name is Alice and boyfriend's name is Andy. We come from Alabama and we like apples..." Only a charter member would know the words to that obscure Donny and Marie song. I was qualified.
However, something happened the other day. I realized what I had done to Lily was completely by accident. Perhaps it was my excitement for the upcoming 2012 Olympics. Maybe it was because I had never achieved that childhood dream of becoming the ambassador of hope and flexibility. Or maybe it was because I was just trying to get Lily from eating her own hair. What I had done though was brilliant—I had morphed my daughter into Nadia. My love for those Romanian pigtails manifested itself through Lily so naturally and without effort. It makes me giggle still. So much so, that I had to post this picture of the adorable likeness that I shared earlier today on Instagram of Lily channeling Nadia.
Soon, Lily and her Romanian pigtails will be front and center with me on the couch for the Opening Ceremonies. I especially can't wait for the gymnastic's portion. This will be Lily's first Summer Olympic Games. It's gonna blow her mind.
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To add salt to my wounds, my sister, Courtney, just happened to be at the Donny and Marie show in Vegas this evening. In fact, she and her husband got to go backstage and MEET Donny and Marie as well as join Donny on stage during the performance. Courtney was kind enough (to rub it in) and send me this photo of Marie on stage in all her glory tonight. I'm only slightly jealous.
If you'll notice, my sister bears an uncanny resemblance to Marie.
Well, at least one of us in the family is living out her childhood dream.
