Tales of a Cheetah-leader Mom

Saturday was the beginning of an era for me. My baby girl became a cheerleader. (Cheetah-leader is what she used to say a few months ago. So cute.) Now for my friends that have known me for a while, they are probably giggling at the fact that I am a cheerleader mom. Evil, evil giggles. Like they are “really enjoying this” type of giggles.

Here are a few things that I have learned as I have entered a new phase of my life:

• Cheerleading squads have very interesting names. My girl’s squad (my word, don’t call it a team like I did the other day. She was very quick to correct me.) is called the Twinkle Stars. OH MY SOUL. The Twinkle Stars. I asked a friend at church when I found out the name if I looked like the mother of a Twinkle Star. I don’t think so.


• The other names are just as good. The Cheerios and Sprinkles were the other “squads” on stage with the Twinkle Stars. My youngest son, N even thought that one squad was called the Toe Nails. No dude, it’s the Toe Touchers, not Toe Nails. (N’s having some issues with the names too. He just doesn’t get why they are naming them after food. Bless his heart.)


• Pom poms take 4,568 hours to fluff. No exaggeration here. Pom poms are of Satan. There are even instructions on the Upward website entitled “How to Fluff a Pom”. I’m not kidding.


• A basketball would have only taken 3 minutes to inflate by hand with a bicycle pump. Or even by mouth.


• When you are the smallest person on your squad, your uniform is big. Even if you ordered the smallest size. Apparently other 5 yr. old cheerleaders have arms the length of my leg. Needless to say we had to roll the sleeves up on the girl’s turtleneck.


• Also, when you are the smallest person on your squad, it adds to your cuteness.


• Fixing hair on Saturday morning at 7:15 a.m. is a difficult process. Especially when you really need to get some type of color coordinated ribbon placed in the hair, somehow, some way, so that said hair can match every other piece of clothing on your body. I should have just ripped out some of the pom pom ribbon and tied it in the girl’s hair. (I’m kidding. I really wouldn’t have done that.)


• After you get the hair fixed, then you absolutely cannot, under any circumstance let the child touch her hair with her pom poms. There is a lot of static produced by pom poms. (Remember their Satanic factor?) And then you gotta start all over again.


• A small plastic megaphone can increase your child’s voice by around 53 decibels.

Despite all of my “issues” with cheerleading, my girl had a blast and did everything she was supposed to do, when she was supposed to do it. Little Miss “don’t look at me” was up on that stage having a grand ol’ time.

HAPPY 5TH BIRTHDAY TO MY GIRL

September 11. A sad day in the life of our nation. A day to remember those who were lost.

In our home, September 11th is a day of celebration. The day that my girl was born.

She had a great day today. Went to ToysRUs to pick out a toy. Went to Chuck E. Cheese’s. A great day when you are five.

My girl also had a great year. She grew a lot and had lots of fun. She won a purple ribbon at the fair, went to the Lazy 5 Ranch to see the animals, went to see Cinderella’s house in Orlando, rode on the Polar Express train in the mountains, got a puppy, played in the snow, went to the beach, picked strawberries at a strawberry farm, went to Emerald Pointe, went to Carowinds, went on a Mission Trip (her second) to Pennsylvania, went camping, went to Washington, DC, played lots of games, read lots of books, sang lots of songs. Loved life to the fullest. Like it should be.

She had a couple of surgeries and spent some time in the hospital. But she had a great year.

Most importantly, she was loved. Loved by those in her home and out. And she knows that she is loved.

2007 - Year in Review - September

September 11. A sad day for our nation. A happy day in our home. My girl was born on September 11, 2003. What a special day.

A had a pretty big b-day party when she was one. You know the kind. You invite pretty much everybody you know and the b-day baby doesn't really have a clue. Then for b-day number 2, we had another big party. (A initially had surgery scheduled in October, 2005, so I felt like she needed a big ol' blowout. That surgery was cancelled, by the way.)

Well #3 rolls around, and A decides she doesn't want a party. At all. Doesn't even want Grandmommy and Granddaddy to come over. Only wants to go to Chuck E Cheese. Doesn't want anyone to tell her Happy Birthday, and God-forbid if we sing her a song. So that's what we do.

2007 is #4. I'm hoping we'll get some kind of party out of her. Something. She does finally agree to having G'mommy, G'daddy and Cousin Sami come over. She goes with me to W*l-mart to pick out her cake. I just knew it would have a princess or Dora on it.

Nope. She picks out a little doggy cake. I mean really little. Like, it was made out of 2 cupcakes and icing. Very, very, very cute. But not quite large enough to feed a party of 10.

But it was her day, so her choice. (I did grab another pre-made cake for those of us less fortunate ones who can't eat the doggy cake.)

I bring home the doggy cake, and the first thing G says is:

G - What's that?

me - A's birthday cake.

G - Birthday cake? That's not a birthday cake. That's a cake topper.

So, so funny. I love that boy. He's so quick-witted. And it was. A cake topper.

Oh, and the other thing that the Queen of the house insisted upon was that she didn't want to turn 4. She wanted to remain 3. So we compromised, and decided that she could be 3+1. Duh, but it worked. And she remained 3+1 for many months until apparently 4 was acceptable to her. That girl. She's really not spoiled. She just has my heart wrapped around her curvy little spine.

My Girl!

A is such a special girl. One day I will post her journey on this site, but I have documented most of it on her CaringBridge site.

The nutshell version: A was born on September 11, 2003. In May, 2005 we learned that she had been born with congenital scoliosis. (Not the preteen adolesence scoliosis, but the "my spine looks like a puzzle" scoliosis.)

Many times when describing her condition to people, I say this: Basically, there is an area of her spine that did not form properly. She has two triangle shaped vertabrae, and three that are one big glob. Not very technical, or even medical terms, but it gets the point across. The x-rays early on did remind me of a bunch of puzzle pieces.

After a long journey along the way, A had surgery on January 8th to install a VEPTR. You can read about the device here: http://www.veptr.com/

You know, when I read other blogs about families who are dealing with cancer, and so many other issues with their children, I am praising God for scoliosis. I hate it for my girl, but wow, couldn't it be soooo much worse.

In November, 2007, A said this:

"Mommy, when God made me, He didn't have any straight pieces left, so he just used curvy pieces."

Thank you God for curvy pieces.