The Mumblings and Grumblings of a Working Mom

As if I don’t have enough to do in my life, a friend suggested I start a blog. I agreed. I love to complain.

I am a working mother. I teach 5th grade in an urban district and I am the mother of two teenage girls. If that doesn’t make you feel sorry for me, I am also a cheerleading mom.

Let me start with my involvement with cheerleading. I was completely against my younger daughter, Jessica, joining the high school squad. I would have to shell out oodles of money for tumbling classes, cheer camp, competition fees, club dues and little bags of candies for football players before every game. 

After dealing with potty humor of 10-year-olds boys and the drama of hormonally surged girls all day, I would have to provide transportation to and from practices, those expensive tumbling classes and competitions.

Worst of all, I would have to attend sporting events. Me…the girl who was the last person to be selected for a team in gym while in grammar school (not even my best friend would pick me to be on her team–I was THAT bad). Me…who once asked how many quarters were in a football game. However, I love my daughter and didn’t want her to be athletically challenged like her mother so I supported her decision.

Fast-forward nine months…I find myself cheering in the stands (Okay, I must admit I just repeat what the crowd says so I sound like I know what I’m talking about), attending Touchdown Club meetings and hosting cheerleading sleepovers.

I grumble and complain, but I catch myself smiling at the animated conversations among the girls (“Hey, if the plural of ‘goose’ is ‘geese’, is the plural of ‘moose’ called ‘meese’?”) and know that as tired as I am at the end of the day, I wouldn’t do anything differently.

Just don’t tell my daughter…I’m afraid she’ll sign up for another club.