i need a hero

When Lance caved to the pressure imposed upon him for years by the dogged pursuit of the anti-doping agency, I won't lie, I was a little sad.  The truth is, I had suspected Lance was a doper all along. But the finality of it all, the damning conclusion.  It's a bummer.  The morning the news hit, I read Lance's statement and expressed some of this sentiment.  After explaining to the kids what had happened, Zoe responded: "You should send Lance a letter and tell him you're sorry that he lost all of his prizes.  And also tell him drugs are bad."

Our heroes often fail us.  Because in the end, they are human.  Even Peter Parker's humanity got in the way (I think).  And that's a shame.  Or is it?

The messiness of life requires that we have very human exemplars of how to make it through.  Imperfect beings making sense of life and others - behaving according to the bundle of values and interests that define us all.  I'm ok with that.  I'm ok with my kids seeing my warts, the warts on history, the warts on the sacred.  I'm ok, because it makes all of these things accessible and real.  And when life bears down, I want them to access things and people that are real.  That they can feel.  That they can relate to, and utilize.

The weekend after Lance formally fell from his perch, I walked into the toy room to find this:

You might not be able to make out all the details, so let me explain them to you.  That's Lori, pumping for Hayzel, braiding Zoe's hair, and eating breakfast.  At the same time.  I'd feel like a real heel if I were just walking around snapping shots like this...but I did make breakfast.  That's good, because I'm terrible at doing the girls' hair.  And the pumping, well, I'm sure I'd be terrible at that too if I tried.  I won't try.

I wasn't sure whether I should praise or pity her for this feat.  I'll go with praise.  Lori does not like to be pitied.

Lance may have fallen; but we still have Lori.