Friday, October 12, 2012

The Diary of a Mad Cheer Mom

If I had a magic power I think I would like to be able to read minds. There’s no telling what the cheer moms think of me. I could take a a pretty well educated guess though. In my defense, their hours leading up to practice probably look  a lot different than mine. From what I can tell I’m the only single mom on the squad. This explains my frequent complaints about the hidden fees of cheerleading.

Usually the second we get home and walk inside the production of mayhem begins. Backpacks hit the ground and seemingly explode leaving debris of Kindergarten school work mixed with dirty socks and candy wrappers. Shoes are removed one at a time and feet apart from one another. This lays the foundation for the inevitable “WHERE’S MY OTHER SHOE?!” fiasco for the following morning. Socks go flying and they must multiply as their make their decent to the floor. There’s no other explanation as to why 4 stinky feet produce 6 socks. And none match.

Our agenda last night consisted of a school project due today and cheer practice. On cheer nights my routine is reasonably disturbed and it becomes less of a routine and more of a race to the finish line. It doesn’t really matter how organized you are or how many ideas you’ve implemented from Pinterest. With kids, your routine and structure means jack didley squat because kids are constantly dropping weapons of mass destruction on your plans.  And they’ll look at you right in the face as they destroy your hopeful dream of an orderly night. For instance, as we’re walking out of the door for practice Kylee hands me a note that she is responsible for providing her entire class with snacks the next day. Boom!

I didn’t want to be late to practice. So instead of going to the store with 2 kids for 1 thing I decided to drop Kylee off at practice with my friend and Logan and I would run up to the store. Genius. I avoided the “MOM CAN I GET SOMETHING? PUH-LEEEEASE! OH MAN! I NEVER GET ANYTHING! THAT’S NOT FAIR!” headache.

We get to practice, I unload Logan, grab our drinks, the fold up chairs and head towards the squad as gracefully as I possibly can. My hands being full is a look I wear often.  I notice the lack of movement and as I get closer and realize everyone is looking at me. Apparently they were practicing with their pom poms and  Kylee’s were in my car… At the store.. Nothing like being that mom who holds up the entire thing. Practice continues and for some reason my child thinks she can get out of formation whenever she feels like it and that’s Cheer Mom 101. Every week at practice I spend a good amount of time directing Kylee not to play in traffic, keeping Logan out of ant piles and reminding Kylee to stop counting the clouds and watch her coach. I usually use my nice, we’re in public around strangers voice but they have grown an immunity to that and I’m forced to use my Real Housewives of New Jersey voice.

This is a weekly event of yelling, repeating and yelling some more in front of the other moms who are always well put together. Whereas I look as though I tied myself to the back of a school bus and took the long way there. Which that might be less painful than what I'm currently doing and could save on gas... Hmmm? So like I said, no telling what these fine ladies think of me. 

I bet they drive their nice Tahoes to Starbucks and make spirit sticks together and discuss the frazzled new mom who sarcastically complains about spending $5 on a homecoming gift. Sure wish they’d bring me a latte back though.