Cheer Drama

Part of being a team is learning to deal with people and get along even when you have differences, realizing that sometimes self has to be sacrificed for the greater good of the team. This is a very important lesson and one of the reasons we spend a lot of time and money carting kids to various team activities.

Younger daughter has chosen to spend the majority of her time in competitive cheer leading.

This is not a sport that existed as such way back in the dark ages when I grew up. Back then cheerleaders wore skirts and sweaters and cheered for their school team at assorted ball games. And the skill and the popularity of the girls was clearly delineated by the sport they cheered for. The football cheerleaders ruled the school and basketball cheerleaders were not as cool although they were better than the hockey girls. The poor suckers who cheered for the golf team were generally seen as losers only slightly better than the kids sneaking into science club. Of course now the science geeks own Microsoft and Facebook and are bazillionaires and the golf girls knew something the rest of us didn't grasp. Golf is lame but golfers generally aren't losers. Am I wrong? Would you rather own a house over looking a golf course or a football stadium? But that is another post.

The point is that cheerleaders cheered for other people. It wasn't a stand alone activity. Also they did a few tame stunts but mostly shook pom-poms, jumped around, and yelled.

Things have changed a bit.

No pom-poms for one. Now it is more like synchronized tumbling. It requires nerves of steel, quick reaction time, extreme flexibility, and advanced tumbling. Only very small kids do cartwheels and round-offs. Now by the age of 10 they are all doing back handsprings, most do tucks and quite a few do layouts and fulls. Kids as young as 5 lift each other above their heads and perform gravity defying stunts.

No sweaters either. It is all glitter, skimpy outfits, big hair, and goofy faces.

It is also the most dangerous sport. Worse than hockey, football, and rugby. When you toss someone 20 feet in the air and something goes wrong, bones break, and sometimes kids die or they don't walk again.

Which is why I still don't know why on earth I agreed to this activity. I can't even joke about it because it isn't something you can justify. Either you have a kid in it or you are crazy. It's an all or nothing thing.

Think soccer moms are bad? They don't hold a candle to cheer-moms. Think moms with manicures and nothing to lose. These women will take a stiletto to you if you cross the line, and they won't even break a sweat. They swear to drive the miles and pay the fees in order to watch their kids do crazy dangerous things. They agree to plan all other family events around the competition schedule. This includes weddings and funerals. After all the person is dead, why miss a comp for that? It isn't like they are going anywhere.

So imagine that one mom skips town in the middle of the night and takes off for home with her daughter who happens to be in all the stunts and tumbles in the front row. A crowd of liquored up rednecks in the 30's would have been polite to a minority person compared to the vitriol spewed by angry cheer moms. The only thing standing between them and first degree murder charges was the approaching performance time. NOTHING stops the show. You can barf in a bucket back stage, teeth have been pulled and bones have been set. There is nothing those women can't fix with hairspray, duct tape, and glitter. They just grabbed a sibling, ganged up in a huddle and emerged with a girl ready to fake it with the best of them.

It isn't over, and if the mom who left has a drop of sense she has already left the country and headed for a part of the world that speaks a different language and outlawed glitter. I'm not even exaggerating.

Cheer moms don't forget, they don't forgive, and if she ever shows her face at the gym again she will be choked to death with a sequined bow. Of course it will look like an accident and the mortician won't need to fix her hair, but trust me, nobody accidentally dies by ribbon.

So Long Bailey

Last night we had to take Bailey to the vet. As Hubs was getting him into his carrier I knew it was going to be the the last time I saw him. Of course I hoped I was wrong but even though we didn't cover pets in nursing school I know enough to recognizes the signs and I figured it was the last time I would see him.

I was right.

The vet confirmed that his heart was failing and giving him a quick and easy passing was the last thing we could do for him. Hubs said he was cuddling him and when the vet gave him the Valium to relax him first, that was the end, his heart was just worn out.

Even though he was an elderly cat, up until the last few days I didn't see it coming. Barney is the one who has had one serious crisis after another. Bailey hasn't been sick a day in his life. In fact up until the move Bailey always seemed like a much younger cat than Barney. In hindsight there were some subtle signs that things weren't perfect. A part of me thinks that he was really just holding out until Hubs got home from the desert. He was his cat, you see. So I'm sure Bailey was glad that it was hubs who cuddled him last. I'm sure that made him more comfortable.

I had been praying that he would just slip off in his sleep at home, but sometimes things don't work out the way we want.

This morning at breakfast Barney kept looking around and sniffing the house meowing the whole time. He was looking for his brother I think. It's funny how animals can tell when something is not right.

Whenever Barney would see Bailey laying on my lap he would come right over and chase him off. Yesterday, Bailey was sprawled on my lap and breathing heavily and Barney came up and for the first time ever he just licked him a little and then lay down beside him. I guess maybe he was saying goodbye.

I like to think that St. Francis has a special section of Heaven reserved for beloved pets.

Hubs and I were remembering all the cute things he did, like playing fetch with Q-tips and paper balls. How crazy he would get with catnip and how he would beg for attention and then hiss at people. How he used to chase the dog. How he would stand on two legs and do "Mere-Cat." How his too-long and fluffy tail didn't match his body.

I am so glad he is not suffering but the house is too quiet today and we will miss him very much.

Ho Ho Ho

It's beginning to look like Christmas in the house. The Christmas tree is up and mostly decorated. (That is it is excessively decorated down low and not so much up high, but the kids had fun, so, whatever.) Our house is bedecked in lots of lights that flash and dance enough to incite seizures and they do it in time to Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas music. My decorations have spread out to every available flat surface and any vertical one that would hold a nail.

My sister and I have plotted out the best strategy to accomplish the mountain of cookie baking needed and airline tickets have been bought to bring relatives from afar.

The annual missive is written and awaiting final approval from Scrooge-er-Hubs-who gets censoring privileges.

There is snow on the ground and the lights in the bushes twinkle through the snow at night. YES! Back in the land of White Christmases I am a happy camper.

Of course time is doing its usual disappearing act and minutes are flying by at an alarming rate, but, all in all, peace and goodwill towards man reign supreme.

Now to come up with just ONE surprise for Hubs for Christmas. The man gets crazy this time of year and seems to read minds at will, making it a challenge of epic proportions to actually surprise him on Christmas morning. My best bet is to wait until the last minute and hope he is too busy playing video games with his brother in law to apply his x-ray vision and mind reading abilities. Wish me luck!

Hands in the Air and Back Away Slowly!

As you may know I am a devoted fan of Swagbucks. Being a cheap sort of person I am all about free money. Since there is no down side it was made for people like me. In the interest of full disclosure if you sign up through my link and then actually use the search engine they credit me matching swagbucks up to the first 1,000 you earn. It doesn't cost you anything and is a sort of win/win but now you know the dirty secret. I don't really like you; I just want to earn a whopping $10 to Amazon from you.

The really sad truth is that I could not care less about Amazon and I'd probably pay you $10 just to read this blog. Yeah, I am that needy. (And NO that wasn't an actual offer!)

Right, the point. Well one of the gadgets I treated myself to this year with Swagbucks was a Kindle. I wouldn't have spent my money but OPM was perfect for such a luxury item. I ended up loving it. In hindsight I may have preferred the Nook so that I could use in in Barnes and Noble but the sad truth is that I mostly buy "free" books off Amazon because I mostly read cheesy romance novels and lowbrow mysteries. I have a $150 device loaded up with garbage novels. Gotta love the irony.

So imagine my surprise when I turned it on and found the: 2011 US Government fiscal budget, Tomas Payne's Common Sense, Benjamin Franklin's Autobiography, and Memorable Thoughts of Socrates! Say what? Where is my cheesy historical romance? Socrates? REALLY? What kind of sick joke is this?

At which point Hubs confessed that he saw "Harry's Kindle" on Amazon and thus tried to load his own books. The smoke started whisping out through my ears and he said, "I thought it was mine!"

"OK, I can see where you might be confused," I said. "Except, you don't HAVE a Kindle!" Thus followed a long and noisy argement involving apps, iphones, Amazon accounts and which emails had been set up under which names for who only knows what reason ages ago and pretty soon the only thing I was sure of was that my Kindle now had actual literature instead of trashy novels. Blah!

Kudos to Hubs for employing my favorite argument strategy! If you can't convince 'em, confuse 'em enough until they give up and leave you alone. Before you suggest we share the Kindle, the whole truth is that in 4 months he hasn't picked up a book once. I might read trash, but at least I read. He intends to read but never actually gets around to it. Now I just have to figure out how to get that stuff off my Kindle. Cause you can load deep thoughts but you can't make me think 'em! Bring back my lonely cowboys and misunderstood Dukes. Socrates will have to wait, I prefer bulging muscles and smoldering looks. And to be fair, Socrates probably would have preferred Hubs if rumors are true.

Time Management 101

The new year is a perfect time to think about how to make the next year better than the last. So what would I do if I walked the walk? How can you survive a deployment or other separation, or just plain old life?

Have a plan-have at least a basic idea of what you want to get done.
Have a back-up plan- because let's face it, how often is life smooth enough for the first plan to work? For example, I want to get the laundry done, all our school subjects and mop the floors before dinner. Back-up plan: wash whites and sweep floor, aim for reading, writing and math. Then later, maybe kids can do history and science while I mop.

Accept help- when people know you are working short handed they always offer to help. But usually it is in a generic "If you need something, call." format. I suggest you do just that. Call. Sometime you just have to be humble enough to know you need help. Maybe you can share car pool duties or have a kid visit the neighbors for an hour so you can concentrate on paying bills. Don't think you have to be Supermom. You don't get more gold stars for surviving alone.

Don't Run on dead batteries. You don't expect your phone to work when the battery is dead, right? How can you be both mom and dad if you are beat? Take the few precious minutes you can scrape up and un-apologetically do something to bolster yourself. Pray, exercise, take a hot bath, whatever helps you find your center again.

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle. No I'm not discussing the garbage here. Reduce all extra commitment and activities possible. While you are down to just one, don't try and do everything you did as a pair. Streamline the social clutter and you won't be stretched so thin that changes bring mayhem. Re-use your resources in creative ways. Mom shouldn't be the only one in the family doing more. Maybe sons can do more household chores like washing cars or weeding. Even young toddlers can be taught to match socks. If they aren't great at it at least they are happy and safe playing the matching game while you fold laundry. Recycle your energy as much as possible. Strive to not waste time or energy unless it something your family really prioritizes. This is not the time to take up new hobbies or start new volunteer time.

Laugh. Learn to see the humor in any situation. It beats crying when things go wrong. Call a friend and have a chuckle about the newest issues and you'll feel better and gain more perspective on how to best tackle the challenges.

Line up your ducks- while it is never possible to anticipate every contingency there is no reason not to take care of the obvious ones. If your finances are straight, your wills are current, powers of attorney are drawn up, house, car, and family maintenance is up to date, you greatly reduce the odds of disaster striking. If it does, at least you will be in the best position to cope.

Finally, remember that this situation is temporary. Every member of the family is experiencing stress and anxiety to different degrees. Extend each other the grace to be patient and hep each other as much as possible. With Him, all things are possible.

Attack of the Killer Turkeys

Tomorrow is the last day of my daughter's tutoring group. As much as both of us love the group I am ready for the break. This is not a typical homeschool co-op group. It is not all touchy-feely do your own thing when you feel like it sort of group. This is a hard core, toe the line, or else sort of group. The kind of group that makes you think you may be the worst parent in the history of the world. They all feed their kids balanced organic food (locally grown of course--but only when their own garden is unable to grow something-say kumquats or low fat buffalo burgers)without any preservatives or red dye #3. They do messy art projects, sew their own clothes (that could be sold in high end department stores) and experiment with lasers, radioactive materials and basic surgery. They speak 3 languages, including Latin and have been doing Calculus since infancy. They read Aristotle in Greek.

Of course I exaggerate. Radioactive materials are restricted.

Seriously, though, these kids (and their VERY dedicated moms!) are amazing. I am not sure how or why they let us join although I suspect it falls under the heading of "charitable works for the less organized."

I mention all this only to illustrate why the house was in an uproar tonight. Tomorrow is our end semester party and thus we must bring in a treat.

No ordinary treat will do. It must be tasty, healthy, and amazingly creative. Not that they expect such, (well, ok, they probably do) but because then I will be able to say, "See! Sure we still have trouble conjugating our verbs and yes! we do occasionally forget that V says W in Latin, but darn it all we are amazing cooks! That is what takes up all our time!"

In order to have time for THE PROJECT we had cold cereal for breakfast and eggs for dinner. I also told the kids if they mentioned that to ANYONE Christmas was canceled this year! Once the day's cooking was over D2 and I went to work.

Rather than waiting for my muse to speak, (my muse being mostly mute) I did what any super-mom does and googled cute party ideas. I found this.

Cute, and easy enough for D2 to assemble.

There were just a few problems.

I forgot to get Whoppers, and peanut-butter cups. Also the frosting was tinted blue.

But no problem I found some Hershey Kisses and figured we could adapt a bit. In the end, there were candy wrappers scattered across the kitchen, streaks of blue frosting on the chairs, table, and the cat. One Oreo had been mushed under foot and then tracked around. I found candy corn in my fake flower centerpiece.

I think the Turkey won this round. The turkeys fought the good fight though.

I plan on telling the other moms that this is no big deal, just the final project on our in depth study of Picasso and abstract art.

Don't judge me.

The best part is that a room full of kids raised on organic carob and quinoa is going to be fed Oreos, candy corn, Kisses and frosting from a can! Oh yes, and blue # 2. It's ok, I am still CPR certified when they go into sugar arrest.

There's One in Every Family

And in mine it's my sister. Oh I know what you are thinking. Surely, Nancy you must be the nut-ball. There can't possibly be TWO in your family! And you would be right on both counts. But that's not what I mean at all.

Just the opposite really.

I can't explain it, but the facts don't lie. Never mind crazy Irish Catholic dis-functionalism, this girl has her ducks in a row. She is actually one of those people who would drive you nuts: perfect family, amazing career, and she is the same single digit size she was in college!

I know! It's not right. I would surely hate her except for one thing: I admire her too much. See she is also caring, forgiving, and tolerant. All areas in which I myself fall infinitely short.

She is the sort of person who can nose dive into a sewer and come out clean with a handful of diamonds. She can be presented with problems that would send any sane person running for chocolate and liquid solace. But her? She just grits her teeth, and digs in. Then she not only conquers, she makes it look easy.

She is also the person who can take any obnoxious person, especially her annoying big sis, and handle them with grace and charm. She seldom gets the credit she deserves inside the family,which is why I am utterly thrilled with her current success. In our defense, you can hardly expect a bunch of mules to appreciate a thoroughbred in their midst. It screws up the curve.

Anyway, I am as always, in awe of her. She makes me wish I was a better person. I guess you can simply say she's my hero.