Cheers for Cheer!

Before my daughter was born, I wanted three boys.  After she was born, I still wanted three boys.  I looked at her for three consecutive days and said out loud, "what am I going to do with a daughter?"


I have owned one accessory my entire life, pompoms on my roller skates and the only thing I ever owned with glitter was my original Christmas stocking (and my mom put the glitter on).


I don't own a hair brush and I don't even have pierced ears.  I wear a wedding band because Franklin insisted. 


I would rather have a pressure washer than a piece of David Yurman and I could care less about hair bows.


My favorite things to wear are WVU sweatshirts, Steeler T-shirts and nightgowns.  I'm a vision.


And so I have a girl.  I didn't just have a girl, I had a girl with crazy curly hair, a dislike for elastic, tags, seams in socks, underwear and anything I bought for her.  Dressing her was hell.


And then, somewhere in the midst of her life, she put on underwear, started brushing her hair and wanted to dance. 


I was cool with all of this, especially the underwear part.  And I supported her.   Until she said these words, "I want to try out for cheerleading."


I convulsed.  Silently.  But I still convulsed.


Cheerleading?  You have got to be kidding me.  Hair bows, hair spray and pom-poms and rector scale drama?  No.


Of course she made it.  Of course she did.


The day the middle school team was announced, I had a television shoot and I had Walker and his friend E with me.  When I heard them screaming in the distance and laughing, I knew she made it.  When I looked down from the balcony and them, they were rolling and laughing and calling me a "cheer mom."  I wanted to gag.


And so my journey as a cheer mom began.  I was horrible cheer mom.  I had a boy who wrestled, played football and baseball and I would watch her cheer, only because he played.


I could not embrace the $50 hair bows and just didn't get it.  I never understood why cheer was considered a sport.  What sport do you apply hair spray for?  Seriously?


Last summer, I noticed Addie had arms like a swimmer, muscular as hell.  I guess I thought it was from running, I wasn't sure.


Fast forward to this year, her cheerleading team won states.  I wasn't there, I picked the wrestling tournament and sent Franklin to Raleigh instead.


It was after the state title that we discovered we qualified to nationals. 
I went to a meeting and came away with one thing, I was in over my head.  We had six weeks to raise about $20k.


I have often said, instead of sending our military to search for Osama Bin Laden, they should have offered a five thousand dollar gift card to Target for any female who could find him.  No disrespect to our military, but a woman would have sniffed him out in days. 


This group of women dug in like I have never seen before, silent auctions, clinics, donations and they pulled a community together.  Checks arrived in the mail and in no time at all, our goal was met.  The cohesiveness was incredible and genorisity amazing.


Off we were to Nationals.  I choose to ride the bus with the girls.  It was painless.  No drama.  None at all.  There was no drama all weekend.  Everyone was kind and helpful to one another.  Supportive.  No drama.  I was so nervous about drama.  Not used to it with boys and didn't want it.  There was none.


Our first stop was registration.  There is where my world changed.  As we approached the ALL STAR resort, there were cheerleaders everywhere, everywhere.  19,000 of them in every color combination, every mascot, from all over.  Everywhere.    They were practicing everywhere.  There were seven thousand Emmas, Emilys and Taylors.  But they were committed.  All those girls had "game on faces".


Saturday game.  Competition day.  Nerves, hair, make up and hair bows. 


Across the state of North Carolina, my boys (aka the wrestlers) were wrestling for the state title.  Not going to lie, my heart was with "my boys."  Every wrestling mom uses that term, "my boys, our boys".  Never "the boys."  We take ownership of these fellows.


I have felt guilty the last couple of years that Addie has been "tossed aside" because she only cheers and the boys always played so many sports and I was eager to attend those.  Even though I was surrounded by 19,000 cheerleaders and their families, I was still thinking about "my boys".




But, as my daughter ran out on that stage with that dazzling smile, my heart melted.




Turns out, the bows catch the light and help you follow the girls. 
They were fabulous.

As we walked out of the stadium, our girls were still psyched.  They made it there.  They learned.  They were still excited.


I thought about being a cheer mom as I laid in bed Sunday morning.  My Addie was across from me sleeping soundly. 


She can hoist a girl over her head and hold her and then catch her.  She has stamina for a very focused three minutes.  She packs her bags, organizes her schedules around practice and games, she studies her sport, she forgives others for mistakes, cheers them on and hopes they do the same to her in return.  She keeps her grades up and is committed.  There are injuries, concussions and physicals, strong arms, all the makings of the athlete.


I am proud of her.  Cheerleading is way more than hair spray and hair bows.  It is a sport and the talent on those mats is incredible. 


I am a cheer mom.  And I have never been more proud.