We're home. In one piece. And it's amazing what I missed out in blogville in just 24 hours without internet. I'm trying to catch up with all y'all, but it's pretty overwhelming.
Moving on ...
Roo's cheer team did very well at the weekend competition, all things considering:
1. They have seven on the team (competing against other "small teams" of 16 to 20).
2. Two girls had never competed before.
3. Two others were newly brought up from the younger team.
4. It was their first competition of the year, which was out-of-town to boot.
5. They had to rechoreograph the entire routine two days before when one of the kids failed to get medical clearance for her previous knee injury.
6. They CONTINUED to rechoreograph and tweak the routine the morning of the first comp day -- up to and including being on the warmup mats backstage.
5. One of the girls nearly passed out on day one, and puked on the mats on her way offstage on the second. As Roo said, after the guys came out with wetvacs to clean it up: "At least we'll be memorable."
Enough excuses for ya?
Seriously, though, they took third place, out of four teams. They were thrilled to NOT be last. They got a big ol' trophy to take home. And their first competition of the seaon is DONE.
Her Roo'ness was grace herself, in the air, twisting, flying, stretching her little limbs up to heaven itself. I am amazed that I gave birth to this talented, coordinated creature. I am the quintessential klutz and can trip over a painted line.
Photographic evidence (of HER, not my klutziness) is coming in two weeks, when they send me the complete photo shoot on a CD (about 500 photos from the 2-day meet). Don't worry, only the best of my daughter will be posted.
The trip up ended up uneventful. The drive home with the coach and three girls was HIGHLY educational, as the coach had an epiphany about one of the older girls on the team and how she impacts the behavior of my daughter. Badly, of course.
Every penny I spent on that trip became worth it right there.
But truly, the most memorable moment of my weekend was not during the trip at all, but after we got home.
I walked down the hall to Roo's room to say goodnight. Her door was wide open and the lights on.
I stood in the doorway, and this is what I saw:
My 13-year-old daughter, sitting on her edge of bed, engrossed in a book.
Had I truly been thinking, I would have backed quickly and quietly out of the doorway and down the hall. She hasn't allowed me to see her anything less than fully clothed since she was 6.
I was absolutely frozen in my spot by the incredible vision of her. She is a tiny girl and has only recently begun to develop, but she is toned and trim from cheer.
And ab.so.lute.ly. gorgeous.
I didn't have my contacts in, so the vision was admittedly a little fuzzy, but OH. She was stunning. And I couldn't look away.
And then she saw me.
The shrieking and screaming were deafening, and I ran back down the hall like a frightened bunny.
She had been planning to take a shower and got stalled by the book she is obsessing over.
Apparently, I'm very RUDE.
Or so I've been told.