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Motivational Mommy

As a child, I was the definition of geek a highly competitive little girl. Perhaps it was because I suffered from middle child syndrome, over shadowed by my big brother Stretch's fantastic farting skills or my little sister, Mouse's wholesome demeanor or perhaps it was because I didn't have much else going for me other than the knobby knees, flat chest and stringy blonde hair. I had to do something to stand out and be seen in my family.

Everything I did I turned into a competition. Whether it was just washing the dishes, doing my homework or participating in sports, I was out to kill it and do it the very best.

My mother often tried to remind me that it wasn't possible for me to be the very best in everything I did.

Horse shit, I'd think to myself as I rolled my eyes at her and strenghtened my resolve to be the world's greatest citizen ever.

Sadly, my mother apparently knew what she was talking about (oh how it still hurts to admit that) and time ended up bruising my ego over and over again as I learned the harsh reality of the world: There is always someone more talented in the world than you are.

(Except when it comes to talking about dead kids and dildos and the ability to put ones feet behind their ears and walk across the kitchen floor using only their arse cheeks. I still rock that one like no one's betch. Heh.)

I soon grew up and having swallowed my pride more times than a person can count, was delighted to realize that while I may have failed at being the best at everything, I could concentrate my laser beam like talents on honing the next generation into being a better version of myself.

I mean, as a parent, is there anything better than molding your child into the person you wanted to be but failed at miserably, therefore be able to capture and RELIVE your glory days through the accomplishments of your child?

I think not.

If ever there was a reason to breed this would be it, I thought to myself as I tossed caution to the wind and convinced my husband that contraception was for sissies.

(Okay, maybe I didn't think that at the exact moment of conception. I may have been too busy moaning and telling him to hurry up. Ahem.)

Still, ten months later I birthed Tanis 2.o. A daughter destined to be the best mini-me EVAH.

*Rubs hands with glee.*

With the luck of some mighty fine genetics and years of constant indoctrination, my daughter has quite literally not fallen far from this tree. She is, like her mother, a pitbull of determination and the consumate competitor.

Praise the lawd for screwing up the first born. Can we say Type A personality anyone?

Fric loves competition. She (and this is where I bust out my mad maternal pride skills and brag her up as though she will be soley responsible for world peace, global gay rights and the cure for cancer,) is at the top of her class scholastically and one of the best athletes of her generation, er class of thirty kids.

In other words, she is just like me.

*Holds hand up for the high fives that are sure to follow.*

However, unlike myself at that age, Fric has something I never did. (Besides actual talent. Heh.) She has a mother who is has too much time on her hands and can thereby make sure she is at every basketball, volleyball and soccer game cheering her on to higher success.

Loosely translated: I pretend I'm her and drive her crazy while shaking my pompoms and acting like a possessed woman.

I had the opportunity to attend young Fric's first junior high track competition recently. Even better, I was elevated from the spectator's bench when one of the volunteers neglected to show up and the organizers needed someone to step up and grab a stop watch.

(Picture me jumping up and down, waving my hand while shouting, "Pick MEEEE!")

The day was fantastic, the weather perfect and my mind filled with long lost memories of my own track and field glory days. Visions of medals and ribbons danced through my mind as I held the coveted stop watch and puffed my chest with the power of one who timed the winner of all the field races.

Then, with little pomp and circumstance, it was my daughter's turn to chase her tail in circles all over the field. While she lined up quietly at the start line, concentrating on the task before her, I stood beside her with pride shooting out of every pore for I was sure, like me, my child would rock this 1500 meter race.

"Mom, stop, you are embarrassing me," she whined when I shouted "TEAM FRIC!!!" as the other runners lined up and waited for the gun to crack.

"Tough nuts, sugar bear, MOMMY LOVES YOU," I heckled as a group of thirteen year old boys sniggered behind my back.

Then it was business time, and hush fell over the runners and spectators, everyone braced for the starter pistol to shoot it's blank.

And with  a loud crack, they were off and my thumb eagerly pressed the start button to time what was sure to be my daughter's victory.

It was a 400 meter race track which meant almost four rotations for the runners. My daughter was in third position as they rounded the first lap.

"Smile for the camera honey," I cheered as she huffed and puffed past me, concentrating on both ignoring her mother and putting one foot in front of the other.


She smiled and then rolled her eyes at me as I looked at the stop watch in my hands and yelled at her as she passed, "HURRY UP KIDDO! CLOCK'S A-RACING."

As the other girls raced around the track, I cheered them on, each by name, offering encouragement and snapping pictures of their red faces as they passed me. I am nothing if not an equal opportunity cheerer.

One of the the boys behind me, waiting for his race to start after the girls were done, whispered to his friend, "Sheesh. That lady is LOUD."

(Oh, you little runt. Your turn is a coming, I thought to myself as I yelled even louder.)

Before I knew it, Fric was finishing up her second lap and she was now in second place and holding steady. Grabbing my camera I yelled, "Smile for your MOMMA!"

She didn't smile.


In fact, she kinda snarled as she went past.

I attributed it to her losing steam. I mean, it couldn't have anything to do with me shouting, "HURRY UP HONEY! TAKE HER! WHAT IS THERE A PIANO TIED TO YOUR ARSE???"

(I'm available for motivational speaking anytime, anywhere. Just email your requests.)

As she rounded the far corner on her third lap I glanced at the stop watch that was bouncing around my neck.


I am nothing if not supportive.

As she huffed and puffed past me, her face getting redder with every lap, my vision blurred and for a moment I relived every track meet I ever raced in. I no longer saw Fric, but the fragile competitive little blonde I once was.

"SMILE FOR MOMMY!" I cried as I tried to get an action shot to put in her scrap book.


"Shut UP MOM!" she hissed at me, out of breath.


She gave me the stink eye.

"GO FRIC GO!" I cried loudly as my daughter sprung into high gear and went for the kill.

I all but exploded with glee as she over took the lead rounding the final corner of the track and charged toward the finish line.


With the stop watch in hand I watched as my daughter crossed the finish line first and ran straight into next week's regional competition.

"You did it!" I jumped with joy as I ran to record the winning time, abandoning my post, not caring about any of the other competitors who were still running their little preteen legs off.

"I'm so proud of you honey pie!" I said as I patted her on her sweaty back and leaned down to kiss the top of her sweat soaked hair.

She slowly looked up at me, shielding her hand from the bright summer sun.

"I kinda hate you right now."

"Ah honey. Those are words every mother loves to hear when her daughter is the WINNER," I smiled down and ignored the boys totally laughing at Fric and me.

"You are never coming to another track meet again."

"Face it Fric, I'm the wind beneath your wings. I inspired you," I laughed.

She may or may not have muttered 'Bite me,' under her breath.

"I can't wait till next week. I'm gonna lead you to victory. I'm gonna be the cattle prod that you never knew you needed. I'm gonna-"

She interrupted and said, "I'm getting some water. Don't follow me. I don't know you." And she stalked off with her friends while totally bragging about how awesome her mother was.

"Stick with me kid," I yelled. "I'll have you in the Olympics before you know it," I called after her.

Funny, she acted like she couldn't hear me.

That's okay though.

I'm totally planning on buying a bull horn for next weeks meet.

This reliving my youth bit is da bomb.

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Reader Comments (56)

Your daughter is pretty kick ass.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterAvitable

I can't wait to do this with a child of my own! You make it sound so fun!

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterKay

OH, and, congrats to Fric on the win!

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterKay

Good for her.....is she wearing sandals in the last pic or are my eyes bad?

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterRachel

Man, and I thought saying good-bye to my kid at the bus stop was bad. You take the cake, my dear. I love it!!

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterSuzy

Congrats to Fric on the win and to you ;-)
I would LOVE to be in the stands with you, too fun.

Adrian was drinking a bottle last night and I was all "You call that drinking?? You can do it faster! Faster! You're the best two-week-old bottle drinker ever!"

Then he threw up on me.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterBackpacking Dad

I used to hide under the bleachers when my sister swam. My mom was that embarrassing. When it was finally my turn to swim, I realized you can't hear a thing in the water. I gladly informed her of that, but it didn't stop her. So, I got back under the bleachers.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterMandee

that is awesome!

Congrats to Fric! Great job cheering her on, Mom. ;)

Also? I totally need video of you walking across the floor on your arse cheeks. I don't think I recall seeing that on this blog anywhere...

I bet watching porn with you is hysterical.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterMr Lady

Go Fric, indeed! But you better be saving up for her therapy later, you know!

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterJill

So awesome!!!

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterKimberly

Thanks for all the great ideas to humliate, I mean support my son in the 1500m at his regional finals next Thursday. You'll be able to hear me all the way from Ontario!

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered Commentercid

I still think flashing your boobs at the bus was better. Maybe you could show them at next weeks meet.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterLaura

Congrats on your win Fric! And don't worry, one day you'll look back on this and say "Gaaa Mom! You were so embarressing!" Just try to remember you will ALWAYS be her baby:)

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterLinda

Awesome! I would love to be a fly on the wall in your house, and hear all the stuff you say to your kids. Of course, I would be a polite fly and stay out of the bedroom!

Question...is she wearing sandals in the pictures? Doesn't she have running shoes??

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterJP in IL

I swear she's wearing birkenstocks....to run a mile? Cripes, get the kid some cleats and she will be an Olympian. Here to help. Muah.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterali

I don't want to be anywhere near your house on prom night or college graduation...
seriously, very funny!

Running shoes! Fric absolutely needs running shoes, of course I've seen illegal’s running across the border in shoes similar to Fric's and they were haulin' arse, so maybe the shoes aren't important as long as you're motivated.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterAZ

That's great that she won, but seriously, sandals? What the heck! Buy the girl some runners!

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterTracy

Great win. Hilarious mothering. Very funny.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterJ from Ireland

Yes, she is wearing sandals. Because she claimed she could run faster in them.

Ever try arguing with a stubborn twelve year old?

So with a "Well if you get shin splints don't come crying to me," I chose to ignore the foot wear and concentrate on focusing on the more important battles.

Trying to talk her out of piercing her lip.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterRedneck Mommy

You tell a GREAT story. And the arse cheeks image was so vivid, I swear I could see it. Love this.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterwitchypoo

I a SO going to show this to my now 14yr old daughter .. she's got a "prom" night coming up & I told her she can only go if I'm allowed to take her & pick her up ... Bwahhhh haaaaa haaaa ... She wants to take a boy ... I'm SO going to harass the 2 of them .... Any tips lol ...

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterDonna

The burning question in my mind is, is this the Tanis Translation from Thought To Text version, or the "oh no, I'm dead serious, that is verbatim what I said" version?

Because Oh Em Gee if it is option #2.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterDella

Wow. You really did that? Or is this an exaggeration?

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterRobyn

It was a good thing that I was in the bathroom while I was readng this... I think I pee'd my pants a lil bit.
There is no better feeling in the whole entire world than that of making your perfect Dopleganger wish you had never had sex!
Good on ya Tanis.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterkari

You started saving to pay for her therapy, right?

OMG you are awesome, I make my 16 yr old crinnge at every event damn well knowing I am preparing her to humiliate her daughter someday. Brava!

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterbella

Dude I would have so killed for a mom like you!

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterjenni williams

Fric and the moosh are going to love each other in 10 to 20 years.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered Commentermoosh in indy.

I'm having flashbacks of my own mom when my sister and I were kids. My sister was sparring in a Tae Kwon Do match and my mom was yelling, "GET HER! GET HER!" When my sister lost my mom actually went to her opponent and congratulated them. WHAT THE? lol

If you get the chance come by and pick up an award I have waiting for you on my blog! Your blog ROCKS!

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterSharon

A friend of mine's dad in high school made good on his threat of punishment when she violated her curfew again by picking her up in the front of the high school in an Oscar Weiner mobile, calling her name over the PA system.

She volunteered to be grounded if it happened again.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterReamORama

Congrats on the win! Oh, I mean congrats to Fric! Yeah, congrats to Fric. That's it.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterCorina

Lol, I would have loved to have had a mom that came to all my events and cheered me on. Fric has no idea how lucky she is.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterGamerGirl

Please help me, Tanis. I do indeed have a piano tied to my arse.

May 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterJane

Congrats to Fric on her big win will be cheering her on for part 2 as well as her fantasy that her mother loses her voice for a day Heh

May 30, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterhabanerogal

Kinda wishing you were my mom :D
And. Good job Fric for maintaining the hate mom thing. Oh and the winning thing!

May 30, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterkaren

I so would have loved to have parents that were cheering me on... Ok I may have hated it then but when I was all grown up it would have been great to look back on. I think the bull horn is a great idea and maybe a t-shirt with her picture and an air horn, you know the ones in a can, and a big foam finger that says Fric is # 1...

May 30, 2009 | Unregistered Commentersarah

I´m a middle child too and had that exact same syndrome.

"I didn’t have much else going for me other than the knobby knees, flat chest and stringy blonde hair"

Oh yup, that was me too.

May 30, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterblues

Older of 2 kids here, not great at sports until volleyball in high school.
Daughter the 2nd (9) has forbidden me from yelling her name during soccer games. She's super-fast, tall, and lanky.
My older (11 year old) is solid & muscular. I'm afraid she will hit 6 feet before she gets to high school. Boys back away from her on the soccer field.
My kids will outgrow me soon, but both believe me when I tell them I will smack them stupid if they don't do what I say. I've never smacked them stupid, but as long as they think I will, tee-hee, I'm safe!

May 30, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterame i.

too funny - i just wrote about not having to worry about reliving my youth through my kids (cuz i don't have boys...)

May 30, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterian

This is why Tacy's sport is swimming. Bathing suit horror keeps me from jumping in there and chasing her too.

Is this a western thing? My ex is from Lethbridge and his mom used to show up at his hockey games in a chicken suit, loud, obnoxious and usually drunk. And she wasn't the only one. Fric can be thankful that at least you weren't in costume.

May 30, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterAnn

That is SO awesome. She may have been annoyed then but someday she'll look back and remember how her Mom went to all of her sporting events and cheered louder than anyone and will smile and know how awesome you are.

May 31, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterJen

Only you would make a track meet sound totally awesome and hilarious rofl. You are totally awesome, and I could so picture you chasing after her to make her run faster lol.

She's gorgeous by the way! She looks just like you!

May 31, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterSarcastica

OMG! You are AWESOME!!!!!!!

May 31, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterJennifer McKenzie

When I'm in the bleachers, standing up and cheering for one of my boys, I often realize that I'm the only one standing up and yelling praise for the action...proving once again I know jack about sports. But damn if my boys aren't cute when they're out there dominating the court (or whatever it is they're doing)!

Speaking of cute, your speedy girl is adorable!

OH YES! Oh yes you did! Awesome. I feel like that at my kids' games/matches/competitions. My Kindergarten-er lost at Battle of the Books this year, they got 2nd in regionals...and she cried. She was SO MAD. And even worse, she yelled at the kid who was wrong.

"IF YOU HAD LIS-TENED, we would have WON!" Ahhh, yes, she is JUST like me. And she turned 6 a few weeks ago.
"Momma, only 26 more years and I'll be JUST LIKE YOU!"

June 1, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterMaija

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