The next day was much better as it began with a soak at the Hotel pool and spa where Isa and Martin were staying, then JF and I went for a ride in the beautiful trails and we came back to the village to watch the Downhill Canada Cup.
The Quebec Cup in Sherbrooke was exactly a month later and had 2 events. There was a crazy heat wave hitting the south-East of the province and the girls raced in very high and humid temperatures. With a very good prep that included a strict hydration + electrolyte schedule more than 24 hours before the race, they all did great and did not suffer too much from the heat.
Our summer is beating to the drum of mountain bike races. The girls could talk about mountain biking for hours, throwin in names of techniques and teammates I know nothing about, and rolling their eyes when I ask for explanations. Remember when your toddler was into dinosaurs or planes and was driving you bonkers chatting your ear off about everything he knew about it? Well, picture that, times 3, and throw in a good dose of teenager sassiness. I’m kind of glad I have taken a job at the state liquor store (SAQ) and can talk to other people about wines and spirits. It keeps me sane and pays for some of the unending list of mechanical problems that keep coming up...
Our summer is a whirlwind, probably like it should be. The bus is a mess, there are more showers in a day than there used to be in a week not so long ago and the girls are constantly hungry and complain that there is *nothing* to eat when there is literally no more room to stuff food in the bus… They are fire and water, expletives and superlatives from morning to night.
But they still ask me to clean their road rashes and give them a massage before bed. They still come and snuggle with me in the morning sometimes and tuck me into bed at night with the best hugs and I love yous.
I’m not gonna lie, these teenage years are quite the emotional ride. I’m not sure I’ve ever questioned myself as a mom as much as I do now. My years of know-it-all are far gone… I know full well that I’ll mess up and that good enough is the new perfect.
I’m not nostalgic of those little ducklings following me around like the center of their universe... Of course, I sometimes miss those chubby little hands reaching for mine to cross the street or those sparkles in their eyes when I told them a story with puppets...
From the moment you birth your kids, you are not the center of your own universe anymore. That was a pretty rough introduction to adulting for the 25 yo only child that I was. Fast forward 15 years and I think I managed OK, although not always as gracefully as I could have, like most. But when I look at those beautiful strong daughters of ours now, I’m so very proud of them, sassiness and eye rolling included!