Mom's Other Daughter

You all know me as an only child, right?

Well, I've been keeping a shocking secret from you... My mom has another daughter.

Here she is, making a hand stand after one of her victories, somewhere:

Yes, my sister is an overachiever. She’s the best skier in the world. Wins all the gold medals. And my mom loves her more than me. How cliché, eh?

My mom is obsessed with watching skiing competitions. No, not obsessed with skiing. She’s obsessed with watching it. Here she is in Holland, the day after she arrived from Croatia to see her first daughter, me:

We couldn’t go anywhere that day until she finished watching race one of the Super G competition for women in Cortina d’Ampezzo, or some other place, and then we had to carefully time our walk so we could come back in time for the second race.

Same thing every winter, she’ll watch the race at anyone’s house, she doesn’t care. She’s not at all fazed if people don’t care about skiing competitions (and, most normal people don’t), she’ll just tell everyone who’s racing, what position they have after the first race, and, most importantly, whether this particular skier is relevant to the success of Janica Kostelić, her other daughter.

Mom: “Here comes Anja Pärson! Watch out! She’s behind Janica in the overall standings by 234 points. If she wins here and Janica doesn’t get any points, she’ll close in on her! I don’t wish her to break a leg or anything, she’s a nice girl, but let’s all cross our fingers that she finishes way behind Janica.” … We, the normal people, are all rolling our eyes, and trying our best to block out the noise coming out of the TV and my mom’s mouth.

At the height of her FANaticism, Mom wrote this poem when Janica won first place at something important or other:

tiho lepršaju zvjezdice kristala
čvrsto prijanjaju uz neprirodan materijal
vatrena, leteća harpija spušta se
iskre vrcaju
metri nadiru poput plime
nema greške
nula cijelih pet, najavljuje finale
noge plesačice utiru tvrdo bijelo tlo
odušak. užitak. urnebes.
povijest je rođena

She’s asked me to find Janica’s email address and mail the poem to her.

Post edit: I translated this to my mom and she corrected me that it’s not Anja Pärson, but rather, some Dorfmeister chick that’s behind Janica. And, it’s 274 points, not 234. I should get my facts straight, she said, even if I’m making fun of her and her love of skiing competitions.