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As all of my four children were growing up, my husband and I attended many tennis matches, hockey games, basketball games, squash games, and lets not forget the karate tournaments.

Each time any of our children hit the ball, we cheered, we hugged, and relished in their victory. As they grew older they made it very clear that sports were not going to be a part of their adult lives. They worked out at the local gym and did their aerobics- but that was the extent of it.

My husband is an avid tennis player, I know his dream was to have all his kids play tennis and even compete professionally. So when our kids stopped playing tennis, and quit all their other team sports activities, his heart was broken. I on the other hand was relieved.

No, not because I was tired of shlepping them around from one activity to the next, and not because all four of them had to be some where at the same time and the scheduling was killing me, that was okay with me. The reason was entirely different, but one I could never really put my finger on until many years later.

Yesterday as I was watching our American boy Michel Phelps snatch the Gold Medal,I sat on the couch and cried. My husband looked at me, smiled, and asked, "This is exactly why you never wanted our kids to compete, isn't?" As tears were streaming down my face I could only nod my head, and point to the TV where Michael's mom was cheering him, and then broke down and cried. Yes, those were the happy tears of a proud mother, never the less, I knew how much stress, anxiety and anticipation this caused her, and all I wanted to do was reach out and tell her, girlfriend....we are all rooting for you. You Deserved The Gold.



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