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The Best Game in Town: Being a Mom
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05/09/08 09:10 AM ET
Mother’s Day is my favorite day of the year, hands down.
My birthday? Forget about it. Christmas and Thanksgiving are too much work for moms. Mother’s Day is all about me and my favorite thing in the world: being mom to Travis, Kelsey and Christina.
Nothing is better than that. Not Oscar de la Renta, not Jimmy Choo, not talking with Tom Friedman, not teaching Harrison Ford tennis on the White House Court, not shooting par, buying low and selling very high, or even a 1986 first-growth Bordeaux.
I watch my children develop like a sports fan watches and is engrossed in a sporting event. I criticize, I cheer, I get butterflies and love every moment. I watch Kelsey and Christina play varsity basketball — one dishes the ball to her sister, she scores, and I cheer.
I watch the three of them surf, play Scrabble, discuss the carbon footprint of developing countries versus developed countries and look out for their 81-year-old grandmother. I watch their minds develop into remarkable, cosmopolitan, thought-provoking world citizens (thanks to the Washington International School). I have a front-row seat to the most exciting journey I could ever have imagined. My seat in the stadium allows me watch their game of life unfold. Nothing is more amusing and compelling.
I start talking about Mother’s Day in April. I try to get the kids to focus on Mother’s Day weekend activities. I let them choose. Bike riding, The Phillips Collection, seeing Franco at Café Milano, going to a Nationals game. They know how much I love this day, because ultimately, it celebrates them.
Before I married, kids were not on my radar screen. Andrea Mitchell, my maid of honor, had an exciting, rewarding life without children. Many of my friends, male and female, did the same. But Jim kept telling me kids were the ticket to the best game in town. He was right. He gave me the best ticket to the VERY best game in town: Travis, Kelsey and Christina Kemper Valentine!
My birthday? Forget about it. Christmas and Thanksgiving are too much work for moms. Mother’s Day is all about me and my favorite thing in the world: being mom to Travis, Kelsey and Christina.
Nothing is better than that. Not Oscar de la Renta, not Jimmy Choo, not talking with Tom Friedman, not teaching Harrison Ford tennis on the White House Court, not shooting par, buying low and selling very high, or even a 1986 first-growth Bordeaux.
I watch my children develop like a sports fan watches and is engrossed in a sporting event. I criticize, I cheer, I get butterflies and love every moment. I watch Kelsey and Christina play varsity basketball — one dishes the ball to her sister, she scores, and I cheer.
I watch the three of them surf, play Scrabble, discuss the carbon footprint of developing countries versus developed countries and look out for their 81-year-old grandmother. I watch their minds develop into remarkable, cosmopolitan, thought-provoking world citizens (thanks to the Washington International School). I have a front-row seat to the most exciting journey I could ever have imagined. My seat in the stadium allows me watch their game of life unfold. Nothing is more amusing and compelling.
I start talking about Mother’s Day in April. I try to get the kids to focus on Mother’s Day weekend activities. I let them choose. Bike riding, The Phillips Collection, seeing Franco at Café Milano, going to a Nationals game. They know how much I love this day, because ultimately, it celebrates them.
Before I married, kids were not on my radar screen. Andrea Mitchell, my maid of honor, had an exciting, rewarding life without children. Many of my friends, male and female, did the same. But Jim kept telling me kids were the ticket to the best game in town. He was right. He gave me the best ticket to the VERY best game in town: Travis, Kelsey and Christina Kemper Valentine!
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