Friday, December 6, 2013

Go! Bulldogs Go!

This week marked Leah's 2nd performance with the Bulldog Spirit Squad.  She cheered at a women's home basketball game.  She was so excited because she received her uniform, pom poms, socks, hair bows, and (what I wasn't  prepared for)gallons of  hair spray and perfume! All of us parents were crammed in a racquetball court to get our girls dressed in their new attire...this was by far the closest I have ever felt to understanding the Dance Mom's crew.  I seriously told Leah I had to step out of the room for a minute, I was feeling sick, my stomach was churning from the concoction of Bath and Body Works seasonal scents, Teen Spirit deodorant, and the guaranteed not to budge gallons of hairspray being sprayed.  Topped off by the record-setting decibel of noise being randomly shrieked in excitement.  (can you tell I'm still adjusting to this cheerleading lifestyle Leah has chosen?)

I was feeling bad for myself when I looked to my right and there stood a poor, young dad, trying to change his daughter into her cheer uniform in a room dominated by estrogen...he quickly tried to get his daughter changed in the corner with his back to the rest of the room.  He had his head ducked down and was desperately hurrying his daughter along with encouragement to her nervous excitement and delay.  "Yes, Yes, ok...ok,,just hurry, yep! Just put it on...there ya go! Nope...here, here!  Put it on...hurry, hurry!"

Haha!  He got her dressed and darted out of the room as fast as I did, to come up for air. We stood at the closed door of the racquetball court, took a deep breath, and looked at each other like, "what have we gotten ourselves into?"

Every so many minutes, the door would slam open and 2 or 3 girls would come out screaming, waving pom poms...running at full speed.  I told Leah I was headed home to get Autum and then we would be back shortly.

Blake was home with a fever, so Jerad was quick to volunteer to stay home with him.  Such a loving father...

Autum and I headed back to the game and sat on the front row to watch Leah cheer the Lady Bulldogs to victory!  I kept trying to get a good action camera shot of Leah...but I concluded that she must have had one eye on me the whole time.  Here is what I got:

Cheer. Cheer. Cheer.

POSE!

Pick your nose...

POSE!  
Cheer. Cheer...

POSE!
POSE!
 
I couldn't quit laughing.  So needless to say I got a lot of these types of photos, but very few of her cheering and jumping.  In between all of this, I had Autum begging to stand in front and cheer too.  She could not understand why Leah got to cheer out front and not her.  It turned into quite an event.  I first told her no, she stripped her coat off and threw it on the court.  I grabbed it and put it behind me.  Then I told her no again, this time, she grabbed her coat and flung it up behind us in the stands and began stomping her feet on the bleachers loudly climbing up to get it.  I drug her back down kicking and flailing like a crazy girl.  Then she starts to take her shoes off...I catch her before she tries to fling it.  SO her final maneuver was to go limp and throw herself out on the court.  I drug her back by her foot and redirected her to help me take pictures of Leah with my camera.  So I held the camera while she was snapping random shots of the cheerleaders. At this point, I didn't care...she was distracted and I could actually watch some of the game.  Until...

The cheerleading coach walks over and asks me to shut the flash off on my camera or to quit taking pictures because the flashing light was sending one of the cheerleaders standing near Leah into an epileptic seizure.  Wow! Didn't see that one coming...so I had to take the camera from Autum...oh no...

Here we go again...

Screaming first.
Then kicking the bleachers...
I wrapped her tight in a bear hug on my lap and gave her a final warning before we were taking a visit to the bathroom to be disciplined.  She locked her dark black, cut through you eyes with mine and contemplated which direction she wanted to go with her behavior.  She sat a little longer before she wiggled her way out of my lap and stood in front of where I was standing and did her own cheer....before sprinting toward the far side of the court, as a getaway attempt.

Was the game over yet??

We did survive.  And I drove home with one tired, whiny 7-year old who was starving and one screaming hacked off tired 3-year old who just wanted to be a cheerleader too. UGH!

Why do we do all of this again??

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