Writing, Reading, Reflection

Okay, if you read the last few weeks of posts, you’ll see that I’m very happy, finding love and meaning in work, and the tone of my posts could be construed as unrealistic, Disney-like, even. Well, as always, I’ve been brought back to reality. Yes, no more floating on cloud nine. No more blissful posts. What you may ask has happened, well, how do I put this as lightly as possible? It’s cheerleading. Yes, the world of backbends, tabletop jumps, pony tails perfectly coiffed, little pleated skirts, pom pons and caddy girls has infiltrated my life.

I do not want to offend those of you who were once cheerleaders because I’m sure you have wonderful memories. But, let me tell you from an adult’s perspective middle school cheerleaders are not fun nor do they create wonderful memories for me. They are caddy, looking down their noses at every girl in the hall, leering at them like they were wild animals circling to take down the antelope unable to keep up with the herd. Yes, middle school girls are not the most pleasant creatures anyhow, their hormones swinging more quickly and drastically than a birdfeeder in a tornado, but give them a skirt, give them a 10 for their herkey jerk, their perfectly turned hands and tight arms–not those noodle arms, for heaven’s sake!–and you create girls who not only have hormones out of control but they have fangs and laser vision that cuts through the hardest of people.

I had to do the whole, “Don’t roll your eyes at me!” speech, but unlike most mothers, I tell the girls they cannot roll their eyes at the girl who perfected eye rolling–hello, that’s me! Do not roll them unless you can throw in the head toss that causes the hair to move like a staccato note, stomp the right foot perfectly enough to cause noise but not so sloppily that you slip and nearly fall, that you move your hip and turn your body all in one fell swoop, and for heaven’s sake do not roll your eyes if you cannot do all of these things and leave the room, slamming the door behind you!

Of course, I demonstrate this perfectly, just like I was 14 again and storming out of my parents’ living room heading for my room, all the while my dad saying, “Don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady! Don’t slam that door, either, or I’ll be popping it off the hinges and you’ll see what having no privacy is all about!”

Yes, cheerleading has arrived and has popped the bubble of my gaiety, has sucked the air out of my “high on life” and has brought me down to reality, kicking and screaming all the way—actually, I’m not kicking and screaming, it’s the kicking and screaming of middle school girls doing it, and right behind them, the mothers who are living vicariously through their 13 year old daughters….This is why  God didn’t give me girls to raise, I’m quite sure.