Skip to main content

My Gold Medalist

This past Sunday will forever be etched in my daughter’s mind...a day that perfect childhood memories are made of. You see, for the first time ever, Rebecca, who is just learning how to figure skate, took home her very first gold medal at a mini competition at our local skating rink.
  • Author:
  • Updated:

By Beth Feldman, Co-Founder, Role Mommy

This past Sunday will forever be etched in my daughter’s mind...a day that perfect childhood memories are made of. You see, for the first time ever, Rebecca, who is just learning how to figure skate, took home her very first gold medal at a mini competition at our local skating rink. Did she have to do double axles and salchows to achieve this amazing feat? No, but you should’ve seen the smile on her face when she found out she had placed first amongst the threesome she competed against this past weekend. As I saw her holding up her medal while balancing a bouquet of roses with one arm, I began to think back to when I won my first award (I believe it was a third grade poetry contest) and the thought that with Rebecca’s memorable achievement, life had truly come full circle.

Yes, I’m an ambitious individual and I’m proud to say, so is my daughter. She’s already learning first hand about trying your best, but at the same time, we want to make sure she’s taking part in activities she truly enjoys. If she wants to try something new and exciting (that is safe and reasonably priced of course), then we’re all for it. Do what you love, and you will love what you do…that’s the simple wisdom we hope to impart upon Rebecca as she begins to discover the things in life she truly loves.

Becca has a tireless spirit, is empathetic towards others and on most occasions, is a good listener…except of course when she and her brother get into battle royales in the back seat of our car. She’s got so much gumption and drive that I’m sure she’ll be wracking up many more accolades in the years ahead.

Scroll to Continue

Recommended for You

While Rebecca may have won her first medal, I’d never pressure her to practice for hours on end so she can one day compete in the Olympics. If she has such lofty pursuits, then I will cheer her on every step of the way. But she has to want it for herself…I can’t want it for her. Truthfully, I’d love for her to know how to figure skate so she can one day teach her own child how to do it too.

When you’re an adolescent girl with a lifetime ahead of you, you are told that anything is possible as long as you do your best. Once you hit the workforce and then become a wife and mother, many of us stop believing that’s true. That’s why I want Rebecca to truly live life to the fullest potential. Try new things and experience all the world has to offer before she comes across those naysayers who will try to tell her that she can’t have it all – or at least not all at the same time. I also want her to know that even when she does start raising children, she should never give up on her own dreams. If she’s pursuing the things she loves then she will be a happier person and more importantly, a really great mom.

As parents, we have to remember to let our children be children. Let them play their favorite sport, sing in front of their bedroom mirror, paint the sidewalk (with washable colors of course), read their first Harry Potter book, assemble that Spiderman puzzle on their own, fly a kite, blow bubbles, ride a bike for the first time without training wheels, experience true friendship and spend quality time with family…and I don’t mean running errands with your kids or chauffeuring them to soccer practice. There is so much for our children to discover and it’s our job as parents to be their tour guides and their role models. Best of all, if you rediscover your own childhood and reclaim your own passion along the way, trust me you’ll enjoy the trip too.

Copyright 2006


My Inner Mommy War, Part 1

When I was 32, three years into my blessedly peaceful second marriage, 16 months into the motherhood gig, five months pregnant with our second child, I sat on the floor of our New York apartment in stunned silence.

My Work Here is Done

It’s been five years now since my first book, “Confessions of a Slacker Mom,” was published. And not only have my royalty checks diminished to the point where they’ll barely cover the cost of a double Frappucino, it seems the book itself has now outlived its usefulness.

Two Thumbs Up for ‘Motherhood’

Last night was the first time I had ever gone to the cinema by myself. Ironically, the movie was about moms who can’t catch a quiet moment for themselves.

My Inner Mommy War, Part 2

The last thing I need is to have my sleep interrupted by kicks and squirms. But to be so close to my children, at the one time of day when they are too bleary to fight with each other, is priceless to me.

Learning to Write

Emi is ambivalent. She is five years old, losing her baby-fat and gaining the responsibilities of a kindergartener. At school she loves the thrill of being in "K," though she is anxious over the newness of it all. At home, she revels in her status as an older sibling even as she is bitterly jealous about having to share me with her brother.

Rachel Lucy Boat

Strong Enough To Be Your Mom, Part 2

Was I strong enough to bring her to new experiences? Or because of my lack of physical strength was she literally “bound” to her wheelchair? Was I strong enough to show her the world beyond sidewalks and ramps?

Diapers and Om

When I was pregnant with my youngest son, Owen, I signed up for a yoga class, but quickly dropped out. I love yoga, but something about the nausea and lightheadedness I felt pretty much every time I tried to bend my enormous body in half took the joy out of it for me. So I looked forward to the class with moms and new babies under two months old with great anticipation. What could be better than spending an hour and a half in blissful yogic union with six other mothers and their babies?

Happy Happy

I'm going to confess something that might sound shocking coming from a writer who often takes as her subject the complex and sometimes dark experience of mothering young children . . .