Today is the 60th birthday of the tenth queen, Nadia Comanche.
Anyone who does not know who it is that will not ask me please, it makes me hot.
It has nothing to do with knowledge of sports, but with knowledge of history.
And no, that's not a euphemism for something else.
With Queen Mother, who has become a timeless brand of grade 10, I am proud to share a few things in common.
Romanian roots, a competitive sporting past, and most of all an uncompromising desire to be perfect.
Yes, perfect, invincible, zero mistakes.
10 out of 10. God forbid less.
Just as Nadia Comanche stood on the mat at the Olympic Games in Montreal (1976) and Moscow (1980), I, like many mothers in 2021, receive grades from Israeli street judges for the endless competition between career and motherhood.
Mouse interest?
Too bad it is not an Olympic sport!
In my and my sisters' inner struggle for workaholism, it might be worth thinking about starting a branch.
Someone has to say this, and here I am volunteering to kidnap - if there's one thing I hate as a mom, it's going to the gardens.
There, in the colorful and magical world of my daughters, I meet the mothers who must, but must, pick up the grade at their own expense.
It starts with stabbings like "So you're Ariel's mother and April? We thought they only had Dad and Grandma," and then comes the knife turn: "Now at least we know what you look like."
This mothers bakery, by the way, is always accompanied by hypocritical smiles and some crazy leader, usually unemployed by choice in the bunch.
The few times I had already gotten to the garden and this dumb scene had happened, I came home injured.
Why the hell do the grades they give me seem to me to be official, damn it?
Answer: In this matter I judge myself much more than them.
For me, the PZM of the Gardens does not in any way obscure the amount of love or the quality of raising the children. , Can not live with 9 in career, can not live with in parenting.
This self-battle, of always being 10, certainly yields achievements.
Success is a supreme feeling, addictive to break another ceiling and another ceiling, but the price of eating everything intensely and in big bites is to occasionally snatch heartburn as well.
It begins in the morning, between the desire to work and produce and the precious time it takes to eat leisurely, continues with another meeting with potential for the next post and a break for rest, and ends in the wee hours, in a duel between Laundry Mountain and Netflix.
The first one always wins for me - by knockout.
On the occasion of Comanche's birthday celebrations, I would be happy to meet her for coffee and cake with candles and find out if, really, she has sometimes managed to release the need to be 10. As someone who has owned an international production giant for sporting events called "10 Perfect", I think I already know Her answer.
danieller@israelhayom.co.il