Cheer Not

Let me preface this by saying that if you haven't already discovered that I'm critical and judgmental then this must be your first time reading my blog.  And if you're returning then I'm gonna make the assumption that you simply choose to ignore and/or forgive that little fact. And that you'll also be  prepared for the judginess I have going on below...

I am cheered out.

I spend cheer practices walking around the track.  The other moms sit in clusters and chat but I've never joined them. I know it makes me look snobby or unfriendly or antisocial but I don't care - I have no interest in any of that. Partly because I'm just not interested in making new friends.  I know that sounds bad, but I'm not. My life is full of people that I adore and value and I don't have enough time (or energy, really) to add any more.  My friendship cup is full.

So yeah, I get it doesn't have to be deep. We're talking cheer mom chats, not life-long confidants, right?  But that's the other part - I'm just not into that whole "cheer mom" mentality. In fact, it wears me out. The other day I made a classic mistake. This month all the squads wore pink bows in support of breast cancer awareness so during half-time I casually leaned over and asked one of the moms (who had made bows for us before) if she made the pink bows. I was really just making small talk. I thought she would say yes, I would tell her they looked great and that would be that.

No.

As soon as I asked, she pounced.  She immediately slid up two rows, sat right next to me and exclaimed NO! She didn't make those bows, those bows were horrible. She was embarrassed to wear them, blah, blah, blah, blah... And she kept looking at me all expectantly - waiting to see my outrage over the bad bows. Which looked identical to the bows she has made, by the way.   And the entire tirade was because some other mom made the bows. Yep, she was bent out of shape because another woman had the audacity to cut some ribbon and use a glue gun. When she said "I'm the bow maker of this squad!" I knew I was done. For good. 

I'm telling you - cheer moms are not like other sport moms. I get being into your kids activities, but this is a whole new level. I'm talking moms shelling out almost $50 for a "Cheer Mom" jacket...and it's 4th grade cheer! It just reeks of women desperate to find their identities through their kids. Hey, hey! Look at me!  I'm a CHEER MOM! Good for you, you gave birth and paid a fee to have your kid memorize a chant and jump around during touchdowns. Hooray for you!

And this is horrible but I also find one of the coaches extremely annoying too.  Every time I walk by and hear her squeaky little voice I say a little thank you that she isn't our coach. I may inadvertently roll my eyes too. The voice, the prancing, the bobbing ponytail - it's all too much. I mean, she's the kind of woman that wears bows in her hair - and not just to cheer practice. And I'm certain she has stuffed animals on her bed too.

Our coach, however, rocks. She is the total opposite -she's hardcore and intense and very serious. But she also thinks cheerleading is all that matters.  We started out with two practices a week - like all the other squads. We're giving up two nights a week and every Saturday, but that's part of it. We're committed to the team. Let's do this!  

Then she added an extra 45 minutes to each practice. Okay, so now practice is ending when M usually goes to bed. So now it's rush home, get fed and off to bed.  Oh, and homework. Somewhere in there we have to do that. But still…it’s doable. Gooo cheerleaders!   

Then she upped practice to three days a week.  An extra day of cheer? Okay, so things are going to get really crazy. How are we going to fit all this in? We can manage this. I think. Go team. 

Then last week we got informed that we were going to practice FOUR nights a week. FOUR NIGHTS A WEEK? For cheerleading!! Are you freakin kidding me? @*#% 


And I'm sorry if I sound bitter but I am.  I totally am. Because this throws our whole life into chaos. I mean, I know it's only an extra day but it's like slowly cheerleading has consumed our entire life. And the thought of not getting home until after 8 four days a week is exhausting.

Our coach is a SAHM and I don't think there was any consideration given to working Moms.  It's totally different for her, she can get all her stuff done during the day. Of course it doesn't matter to her that we're in practice all night. But I go from work to practice.  When am I suppose to find time to cook? Or help M with her homework? Or get anything done? This isn't what I signed up for!

Trust me, if I would have been told at the beginning it was 2 hours a night, 4 nights a week we would not have a cheerleader right now.  And now the squad is competing. What?! We didn't sign her up for a competitive cheer league - that was intentional. Because guess what?  That means more time and more money but mostly more time.

So yeah, I'm cheered out. And it's really unfortunate too because M is having the time of her life; she absolutely loves being on this squad.  Which means we'll probably be doing it again next year...

Selfie taken during practice. Can't see anything? Maybe because IT'S PITCH BLACK OUTSIDE.

Lights from the field. The girls are out there cheering. IN THE DARK.

Ugly: Front & Center

Ever have conversations where something that was said stays with you - like you just zone in on that one little piece? And you keep thinking about it - like nothing else in the conversation mattered. Which, obviously it does - but you're just...stuck. Hyper-focused on that one thing.  And for me, it's usually because I have questions that I don't ask. 

So I'm stuck. Stuck on a bit of conversation from this weekend "You're the kind of girl that a guy doesn't realize he'll miss until after the fact" That's kinda the equivalent of being told you're like the comfy sweats that get thrown out and then one day, after too much mexican food and beer, you think man, I wish I had those sweats! And I wanted to ask “Well, why wouldn't you realize that before?” I mean, do you have to dump me in order to realize I'm kinda a good thing? But the conversation moved forward and the moment had passed so I didn't ask. And I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

When our preacher talks about relationships, he always says “Women marry thinking the guy will change and men marry thinking the woman will never change.” And according to him, neither is true.  Personally, I don’t agree. For the most part, in all my relationships I’ve always taken the guys at face value.  It’s almost like a book – it’s interesting to discover who they are and whether I like everything or not, it’s part of the story. 

And I think that’s always been the problem with me too – I just expect people to want to take me as I am from the very beginning, without having to dress myself up. I’m not trying to hide my disappointments or frustrations until after I get you hooked, because then we both end up feeling screwed.  With the exception of my first real boyfriend, who I tried desperately to accommodate – yes, that’s cool with me (when it wasn't). No, I don’t mind (when I did). Anything you want (when I didn't). 

So yeah, I seemed demanding and high maintenance and...I don't know what else.  But at least you got to see the ugly up front. 

Weekend Win

*Not sure what happened - my post from yesterday and Monday didn't actually post. Here's Monday's little jewel.

Fun Sooner weekend!

I realized Friday that every trip out of town should begin with a golf tournament.  Because I'm neurotic, I can't go out of town without a clean house. My house is usually* (because periodically does count as usually, right?) picked up - as in I don't leave crap just laying around everywhere. Unless you count baskets of laundry as "crap". Then yeah, I leave crap laying around everywhere.

But there's a difference between picked up and clean. And I can't leave without it being clean. Thanks Mom, I totally blame you. Because if God forbid, something should happen to me the first thing everyone will ask is "Was her house clean?" And the thought that the answer might be no...It plagues me.

So Friday the hubby went off to play one of his annual golf tournaments and I cleaned the house. It was perfect. 

It also meant that I had to drive to Texas for the OU game. Because this:

Golf = beer

So we get to Texas, meet up with a friend, have a fantastic dinner at a stir-fry restaurant I've never tried before and spend the rest of the night talking. So it was about 11 when we finally checked in to our hotel. Actually, husband checked in and I went to go get ice cream. Because what do you do when you haven't had any regular exercise and you've gained 10 pounds - get ice cream! Seems reasonable to me.

As I'm navigating the annoying one-way streets and no u-turns on my quest for calories, husband calls and says "Good news. Our room has a whirlpool tub." And I'm like Awesome! because I never see the next part coming. And then he says "Bad news is that it's disgusting." That was an understatement. 

Disgusting? Disgusting doesn't even come close.

See that black stuff? That would be mold

As soon as I see it I go to the front desk. Because surely they're going to be reasonable and want to fix this, right? The very first thing he did, as soon as I explained the problem and showed him the pictures, was make a phone call and speak to someone in a language I don't know. Then he asked me to take a seat and wait. That should have been my first clue.

So after a bit and man and woman come in, and without an apology or even acknowledging the room was gross they begrudgingly offer another room - the only room they have left. Probably the only room left in Texas. And they're full of attitude, almost like they were put out that I had the audacity to ask for a clean tub.  And the thing was, I was nice. I really, really was because I'm not stupid...it's OU/Texas. I have no leverage. Do you know how hard it would be to find another room? We'd end up sleeping in the car.

And before the woman even took me to the other room I told them both, I don’t need another room – if someone could just come clean the tub. That got no response. Which shouldn’t have shocked me because obviously they weren't too fond of cleaning.  Room #2 had a strong odor of Pine Sol so I was hopeful but that tub wasn't clean either. Not as gross but not clean. And I guess they thought I was stupid because they didn't realize I would notice that the shower was wet – I’m pretty sure once they got the call they scrambled to throw some cleaner around before bringing me up. And since the room was smaller, had two double beds instead of a king, and was also dirty – I told her thanks but no thanks; we would keep the original room. 

Almost immediately after I got back there was a knock at the door. The man was standing there and he asked me if we were moving rooms. I said no, that room wasn’t clean either and we would just stay where we were. Then he says “I don’t need complaints tomorrow. I’ll refund your room and you can find somewhere else.” Now, I can’t be positive, but I’m fairly certain that was a thinly veiled threat to shut up. And I got that message loud and clear. Recognizing it was now midnight and the night before the game, I smiled as sweetly as I could and thanked him for all his assistance and told him we would like to stay. Again, not real fond of sleeping in cars.

The next morning it was off to the game! I cannot express to you what an awesome experience Red River is...walking through the fair in a sea of red (and occasionally ugly burnt orange) and there’s this energy and excitement. Everyone is pumped about the game. Everyone.  Then, the walk through the stadium. It’s incredible, masses of people yelling “Boomer!” and then “Sooner!” and every so often “Texas!” and then “Sucks!” And when you step out into the stadium, watch it fill up with red and orange. Even if you’re only a half-way fan, it’s hard not to get excited. Just an amazingly fun time.

The other two times we’ve gone we lost and a Red River loss is so much harder than any other game. Because really, it’s like a regular football game on steroids, everything is so much more extreme and intense. I will never forget the first time we went, walking out of the stadium and all these Texas fans were waiting outside our side of the stadium yelling really rude, insulting things as we walked by.  It was the ultimate walk of shame. 

This year there was very little smack talk after the game. I would like to say it was because we have a more dignified fan base but in reality I think it’s because no one really felt great about that win. Don’t get me wrong – I was ecstatic but can I gloat about it? No way. We didn’t play great. In fact, our offense looked horrible. If it weren’t for our defense and special teams we would have lost. And if you look at the stats – we should have. They had more 1^st downs, more passing yards, more rushing yards – over double what we had. They also had more penalties. Which was a huge contributor.  Not the only contributor, but it certainly helped.

But I’m not complaining – I will take the win!  But I was kinda hoping that when we won, because I was sure we were going to, that we would blow them away. Or have a game like TCU/Baylor. Now that was a game! But really, I’m just happy to have a win on the books.

Oh! And I saw Kenny Stills! I was going to get a picture with him but he had taken several already and he looked done.  I waited a few minutes then decided I didn’t want to be that person. I should have at least taken a picture of him, but I didn't think about it. But thought it was cool that he was there. And he's a lot tinier in person than I thought he was...I'm mean, he's not tiny but just not as big as I thought.

We went to eat at the Gas Monkey Bar & Grill afterwards because hubby and kids are huge fans of the show. It was really, really good. It may have been because I was starving – the only thing I had to eat was a stadium hotdog that cost more than my pulled-pork sandwich from the restaurant.  And they have fun drinks/beer that come in a souvenir cup, so that’s a bonus. We’ll definitely go back.

We got up the next morning to head home. Of course, what what trip to Texas would be complete without a stop at the Dairy Queen? Which, technically, they've come back to Oklahoma...but still, you gotta stop. 

Overall, it was a great weekend - got some friend time, had some good food and my Sooners won!

Our drinks came height proportioned...

Who said being short was bad?
How many people can fully stretch out on road trips?

Birthday Love - The Celebrations Continue

So I know it's over, but I have to say this has been the birthday that has kept on giving...

Monday I ran to the mailroom and what did I discover? I birthday surprise from a dear friend. Tuesday, there was a package waiting for me with yet another surprise. And then yesterday, at our staff meeting, everyone surprised me with a cake and card...Have I mentioned how much I love surprises?  It's been aaaawesome!

I can't say it enough - I have some amazing, incredible people in my life. I'm really, really blessed. And kinda amazed - how did I get to be such a lucky, lucky girl?

So it's work today then off tomorrow for Red River!

What a great week!

10-4 Good Buddy

I began and ended this day with a piece of cake.  Because if you're going to celebrate, you might as well celebrate big. Right?

Or maybe that was just my excuse for having two piece of cake in one day.

Either way, I'm wrapping up this birthday weekend happy, happy, happy.  I have the easiest birthday to remember - if you know CB lingo or if you're a fan of Smokey and the Bandit - all you have to do is remember "10-4 good buddy!"

This year, 10-4 fell on a Saturday, which automatically makes the birthday better. And gave me the excuse to claim the entire weekend for birthday festivities.

My BF jump-started things by bestowing me my very first birthday present.  Such a perfect gift.  I made a comment about something a few months ago and she remembered.  That always amazes me. And touches me. I don't know, it just says a lot when people pay attention to the things you say. That's how you know someone loves you - when they remember things and you don't even have to ask them to.

Then I got one of the nicest birthday texts, actually one of the nicest texts I've ever gotten, from a friend.  It was completely unexpected. It's always great to know people think kind things about you but more than that - it was just touching to be thought of and it really made my birthday special.

So I fell asleep on my last day of 37 feeling loved and extremely grateful for the wonderful people in my life. And just in case you didn't know, that's a great way to end a year.

Didn't have any big plans for Saturday. Our birthday celebrations are usually pretty low-key - dinner, family celebration - standard stuff. I don't plan my own birthdays - just not my thing.  That duty falls to my husband. He usually asks me what I want to do or will at least talk to me about it so if there is something specific I want to do, we do it. But for the most part, I'm easy.

This year we had no conversations about birthday plans.  He did ask me last week what I wanted for my birthday, which I found highly suspect because my husband's a planner, he wouldn't wait until the week before to ask me about a present. So I knew he already had something and was trying to throw me off.  He forgets sometimes that I know him.

Saturday morning someone planted the seed of bacon. It's Fat Girl Code 101 - the slightest mention of bacon and it's in our head. And once you've got bacon on the brain, it's over...So I made a bacon birthday breakfast. I did have a few other things in addition to the bacon. But none of them warrants recognition because....it's bacon.

So my entire family gathered at my Mom's house. Where we watched the Sooners get beat. The only blemish to my weekend. Ugh, what a disappointment. The game, however, was amazing. I love, love, love games like that. Well, actually, I love games like that. I only love, love, love them when my team pulls out the win. But when or lose, you gotta appreciate a good football game.

After the game we did the whole cake/presents thing.

When I pulled out a card from my husband, the "gift" inside was a folded up paper.  Immediately, I knew. I knew exactly that it was! So I unfold it and...wait. What is this? Then I quickly scanned the paper and it dawned on me - it was what I thought it was! Tickets to Red River!

Kinda.

It was a hotel stay during Red River. My fiscally responsible husband was still price shopping and didn't actually have game tickets yet because he was convinced they would go down. I'm glad he had the foresight to wait because prices did drop.  The loss to TCU might have helped...

He got tickets today so it's official - Red River Rivalry 2014, here we come!

So it really seems 38 is starting off right - think I kinda like it!

The Hunt Is On

So this whole Frozen obsession has gone a little far, don't you think? 

My girls have decided that's what they want to be for Halloween.  That's the only thing they want to be for Halloween. Usually, they have 3 or 4 different things and I have to work to get them to narrow it down to one and work to ensure they keep the same one for more than one day. I'm serious - you better decide. Once I buy the costume, that's it - you can't change your mind anymore.

Not this year. Nope, this year it's done. Decided. Final. It was final back in like April. And we've been talking about it since then too. Kinda Frozen obsessed.

And I had no problems with the costume selection. Actually thought it was kinda perfect - one blonde, one brunette - about the right age difference. Cute, cute, cute.

But then I discovered that there were 1.4 million other little girls that also wanted to be the Frozen girls for Halloween. Oh. Wait. I got that number wrong. Yeah, since we've entered October that number has climbed. We're now at 2.9 million.

And wouldn't you know, that means that everyone is out of Frozen costumes. It's like the year PillowPets came out. That was the very first year that M actually asked for something for Christmas. She wanted a pillow so bad. But guess what? So did everyone else. I could not find her a pillow to save my life. Actually, that's not true. I could find her a pillow. On Ebay. Some blood-sucking money-hungry jerks had bought up all the PillowPets and were selling them on Ebay for hundreds of dollars. Hundreds. That's how we ended up with the most expensive pillow I have ever owned. A pillow I have never used. We didn't pay hundreds for it - only like...uh....$80. Gaw, that's embarrassing to admit. And that was only because we had to get her the rabbit, instead of the unicorn. Apparently, no one wanted the rabbit. Thank goodness.

So the same thing is happening here.  There is a shortage of supply and an outrageous demand. Dang, Disney - did you not realize this little movie was going to blow up?

I went during lunch today. And yeah, that means no workout. I made my goal for last week and none for this week. Seriously.  But I digress....

So I found one for M2 but still no luck for M. So I look online when I get home. Nothing - they are all sold out. Unless I want to order from some shady internet company with multiple and obvious typos on their webpage. Somehow I just picture two teenage boys with bad acne sitting at a computer laughing at all the parents stupid enough to enter in their credit card information on the site they created after school.

So I decide to go hit some more stores. So I'm chatting on the phone with a friend while I'm driving, telling her about the craptastic week I've had - and that's a whole other post. But a post I probably won't ever do because I've been whining too much this week already -   and when I tell her what I'm doing, we decide to meet up to shop together. And the first thing I said, the very first thing, was "Okay, but I look rough."

So then why, why, when she saw me did she do a double-take and exclaim "Man! You're bummed out!" Uhhhh, yeeeeaaaaahhhh - it's called looking rough. And you had fair warning. What is it with people not believing me?  When I say I look rough, it's because I look rough!

We hit another 4 stores with no luck.

So that's my mission right now -Operation Halloween Quest is in full force. If you happen to be out and find an Elsa costume in size Large (10/12) snatch it up for me. Seriously. In the parentworld, those things are like gold!

Love Story

Every girl should have at least one good love story. If you're really lucky, you'll have more than one. But you need at least one.  At least one time when you felt like the most special girl on earth. Felt it, believed it, knew it was true.

I'm one of the lucky ones.

But it's funny. Love stories, real love stories, are nothing like the Hollywood movies. They're complicated and confusing and sometimes messy. At least this one was.

He worked in the Athletic Department, next to Lingerie - which was my area. I know, what a weird combination, right?  I guess they thought men would browse wind pants while their wives tried on bras...It was always a little bit embarrassing to be laying out panties next to a rack where a bunch of guys would be shopping. I felt like we should have been tucked away in some discrete corner somewhere.

We had never spoken.  Then one day, he approached me.  He thought we lived in the same apartment complex - he was pretty sure he had seen me driving in and out. Somehow in that conversation we exchanged numbers. But not like what you would think. He had a girlfriend - the super thin, busty, very pretty brunette in Shoes. And I had a crush on a guy in Security.  Plus he was old. Well, I was 18, he was 25 so he seemed old. And he had this full beard, which made him seem even older.

I think that's why I gave him my number. There was zero attraction. It felt safe.

I don't remember the first time he called or why, but we talked about the differences in our apartments (he had a one bedroom, I had a two) and tried to figure out where the other was located.  I had a cordless phone and I walked to the park area right in the center while we were talking and then I turned around and he was there. My roommate and some of our friends were getting ready to go eat so I thought I would show him the two bedroom and that would be that. 

Except he didn't leave. He sat down on the couch, acted like he was a friend and started talking to everyone. I kept hinting around and waiting for him to feel awkward enough to leave. But nothin. Frustrated, I went to my bedroom to change.  I was thinking of what I would say to get rid of him, while secretly hoping he would be gone when I got out.

Instead, I walked out to discover someone had invited him to go eat with us! Great. Instead of hanging out with my friends, now I have to make small talk with some random guy I don't care to know.  I was put-out. So when we got to the restaurant, I purposely sat on the opposite end of the table - as far from him as possible.  I didn't invite him, I wasn't talking to him. After dinner, everyone went in different directions and since we lived in the same complex, guess who got to take him home?

We talked on the way- mostly about his girlfriend and a little about work. He was kinda weird, but nice.

I dropped him off and he asked if I wanted to see the one bedroom apartment. I didn't have anything better to do so I walked upstairs with him, stood awkwardly by the front door while he introduced his cat and was about to leave when he said really, really sternly "Don't ever do that." I was so confused until he continued on "Do you know what could've happened to you? Coming up here alone? What I could have done and no one would have even known where you were. Don't ever go to a strange guy's apartment alone. Ever."

It kinda shook me.  I hadn't really thought about anything bad happening to me. Hadn't thought about it at all. The thought he might hurt me? Never even crossed my mind. I had been out of my parents house for less than 3 months and was enjoying being "grown". It shocked me to realize how vulnerable I was, how stupid I had been.

We began chatting at work. Then chatting more and more. His girlfriend would come up occasionally and we would say hi. They got engaged about a month after we met and came by to show me the ring.  A few times the three of us tried to get together but something would come up and she would cancel - so it ended up being me and him. And we started to spend a lot of time together.  We became very close, very fast.

I'm not sure what she thought about that. I didn't have improper intentions and I would like to think she knew that. I suspect this beautiful girl with the perfect body wasn't really threatened by some short, dumpy, socially awkward girl. And she shouldn't have been.

Then, about 3 weeks after they were engaged the two of us were laying on my living room floor listening to Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon. I hadn't really listened to Pink Floyd before - like really listened to it. My parents had listened when I was younger but I had really tuned it out and kinda ignored it. He was reintroducing me to it and I was thinking how beautiful this song was when I glance over and...he's crying. Crying.

I'd never really seen a guy cry before and I had no clue what was wrong or what to do. I was horrified. So I hesitantly asked what was wrong.  And he looked at me and said very slowly "I think I love you."

I felt like I had been hit over the head. What? Love me? Huh? The world felt like it was crashing in.

I don't think I said anything for at least two minutes. I was shocked. And upset. And didn't know what to think. I was sitting there with so many things running through my head. But mostly I was just sad because I knew what that meant.  Finally I said, "I can't be your friend if you have feelings for me."  and after a while he said "I know." And then we turned our conversation to ending our friendship. It sounds very strange but it gave us something to focus on, took the heaviness away.

We both had off that Friday.  Another contributing factor to our developing friendship - we happened to work almost the same exact schedule every week. So Friday we were going to spend the day hanging out and then part ways. And that's exactly what we did.

I didn't get sad until we said goodbye. I realized he had become my best friend.  It made me sad, too sad. And disgusted with myself because I realized that it meant I had feelings for him . It was so much to process - guilt, confusion, sadness.  All rolled up in a nice little jacked-up ball.

I didn't realize how much I cared about him until I lost him - it kinda caught me off guard. Two weeks passed without any contact and it seemed like those two weeks were so long. But life has a tremendous way of moving along, even when you do feel like you don't want to, and I was adjusting and feeling better.

Then a knock on my door. I opened it up and he's standing there, with this look on his face like he's scared and excited at that same time and he says "I just broke off my engagement, I want to be with you."

My heart leaped. It was such an extreme gesture, such a huge declaration of love. You're giving her up for me? But I was nervous too. So I said "I think you're just scared about getting married." and he grabbed me by the arms and said "No, I've thought about it every day. I can't marry her feeling the way I feel about you."

I know what you're thinking - it's horrible. And I can't argue with you - it was a horrible situation and a horrible thing for me to do.  But that moment was so real and so....raw that  - and it sounds so cliche but - it really was beautiful.  I just don't think you get very many moments in life that someone will really bare themselves to you - just lay themselves out like that.

You can probably guess that the ending wasn't as great as the beginning. But I'm grateful for the moment. Because I really did feel like the most special girl in the world - I believed it and knew it was true.