Ryan, April, Tatum, Jack, and Sienna

Little Hands I am grateful for..

It's funny that this is one of the topics because my babies hands are my favorites.

The first memory I have as a mother are seeing Tatum's hands when she was born.

They were long, and slender.. And her nail beds?! They were incredible.

Straight out of a hand magazine.

What is a hand magazine?

They were straight from heaven is what they were..

Worthy of jealousy at just one second old.

And I was certain she would be able to palm a basketball before she turned 3.

While I know now that that will NEVER happen,

I still know her hands.

I know how she holds a pencil, a spoon, a mascara wand, and a blush brush.

I know that she uses her fingernail instead of her finger pad to maneuver her i phone.

I know that her nails are always painted, and usually chipped.

That she hates her cuticles touched, knuckles popped.

I know Tatum's hands.

Jack's little hands.

Ohhhh.

My little JackJacks hands...

They have always been stalky and chunky..

Since his fine motor skills finally showed up, he has used them in a controlled, and concentrated manner.

They are as chubby and cute as little dirty boy hands can be.

Which is the perfect combination when his favorite past time is face tickling.

He loves to draw the outline of my entire face, and the outline of Ryan's beard.

He would rather give you an affectionate cheek squish than a kiss.

And his hands fit perfectly in the center of the cheeks of those he loves.

Fat and Firm.

He bites his nails, and his pointer finger knuckle when he's nervous.

His nails are below the quick of his fingers which makes them appear all the more stout.

And although I hate to admit his maneuvering of an iPad is as smooth, and quick as a grown man.

Although.. He uses his thumb a lot.

Which is.. unique.

I love Jack's hands.

Sienna's little hands.

Sienna's hands are the brand newest pair of hand's that I have fallen in love with.

They are very similar to her sisters.

Long, and slender.

They have very little interest in an iPad.

Thank goodness.

They are deliberate in their abilities, and as dainty as can be.

They are often painted (blue only)

and always clean.

"Dooty" hands are not okay with my little princess.

She loves to lotion and soap them, and does so with her fingers perfectly straight, and using only up and down motions.

Her fine motor skills are impeccable, and watching the concentration she has to pick a sticker out of a sticker book with no help is nothing short of impressive.

She can pull an elastic out of her hair in record time,

and when I close my eyes, I can perfectly picture how they tightly grasp her favorite pink sippy cup.

I am so grateful for the little hands in my house.

So. Hi.

Since we moved to Salt Lake Tatum has been obsessed with being a cheerleader.

I had never heard of such a thing.

A cheerleader.

Cheer leading is for high school girls.

And.. Maybe American Girl Dolls.

Because the sky is the limit for American Girl dolls.

But anyways.

Its a thing.

Our Steph and Lettie had been doing cheer at Elite Academy for a couple of years when we moved up here, and they were loving it, so we figured we could give it a shot.

At Elite Academy.

Only Elite.

Nowhere but Elite would do for Tatum.

When I say it's a thing, I mean its a real big thing.

Big. Huge. Insane.

It takes a deep commitment, and sacrifice from both daughter, and mom.

(and dad, and step dad, and step mom)

It's not cheap. It's actually quite pricey your first year while you acquire all of your sparkly paraphernalia. It is all so cute though.

So.

You continue with your cheer experience.

Because moms of girly girls like cute things that sparkle.

Then.

You get a little fluttery feeling in your belly every time your daughter comes home and talks incessantly about every detail of her new team that she loves so much.

The older girls that she looks up to,

and the younger ones that look up to her.

Both very serious situations.

And she talks coaches that influence her, notice her, and get to KNOW her.

About their boyfriends, roommates, backgrounds, and tumbling skills.

You know.

The good stuff.

And she giddy because she gets to play with owner of Elite's little girls during lloooonng summer practice days.

And that means something. Ya know?

And then summer ends, and things start to get intense.

You find yourself being bossed around 20 something year old girls when you're daughter doesn't make it to cheer practice.

Sometimes you forward those texts to your best friend with the huffy face emoji and say

"WTH? She had a birthday party"

But then.

You begin realize that it's because your daughter is important.

That she is part of a team that needs her.

That it makes a difference if she is there or not.

And that makes you feel good.

For yourself, and your daughter.

Because being needed is nothing but a good feeling for everyone.

I personally can't think of another sport or atmosphere where every single person on the team is equally as important as the next.

That's an accomplishment.

And it's worthwhile.

As you get deeper into fall, and closer to competition season, you find yourself committed also.

That's because you don't JUST receive bossy texts, you get encouraging texts.

And videos.

Video's of your long legged little beauty doing back walk overs, and back handsprings.

The same girl, who's god given height had seemed wasted when basketball and volleyball couldn't quite light the spark necessary to... well.... score. or anything that resembled it.

That now she is doing much harder things for her particular body type.

That her dedication to this new found hobby has busted through any stereotypes of what a tall girl can and can't do.

So you commit yourself more to this crazy cheer thing because.

Hello.

Your daughter is thriving! and proud! and happy!

And you couldn't even teach her to do a freaking cart wheel.

For reals.

So.

Fist bumps Elite.

So. Then.

You drive back and forth and do it some more, and put your weekends on hold for Saturday practices.

And you get to know the girls. and the coaches, and owners. and love them.

And feel endless gratitude for what they are doing for your daughter.

On so many levels.

Confidence. Joy. Learning. Friends. Family.

And those muscles.

You could bounce quarters off of those developing curves.

If ya know what I mean.

So then.

Competition seasons starts.

And you realize that your weekends really are over.

And your husband complains.

Until we actually attend our first competition.

And about fall over.

The atmosphere.

The energy.

The glitter.

Oh the glitter...

The squeals, the tears, the excitement, the build ups, and the let downs.

It's all so real.

It really is a sport.

A sport for girls, that maybe are not interested in sports..

Or for girls who are totally good at other sports.

Whichevs

And it's nothing you would understand, until you are a part of it.

It just seems like a piddly dance thingy.

But it's not.

Until you experience it all.. It just seems like a dumb girl thing.

And you try to chalk it up to "just fun"

Until you find yourself sick on a Saturday morning from the second you wake up.

And wonder if maybe you are getting the flu?

No? Not the flu.

Just internal diarrhea.

Perfect.

And you are trying to maintain the "just for fun" persona for your girl.

Because.

You know.

Being a good mom and all that jazz.

So. You deal with your jitters, and watch all the other teams in their division.

You learn what to watch for.. Bobbles, drops, falls, stumbles, trips.

or perfection.

However the cards fall for everyone else, doesn't matter.

Because your daughters team can come out on top no matter what the outcome of the others.

Or maybe not.. It's all so intense!

And then you hold your breath through the entire routine.

Literally. You don't breathe.

You know which parts of the music to zoom out of watching {just your daughter} and watch the stunt on the right side of the stage, because it's been struggling to hit lately.

Fewf.

It hit.

Now back to watching your daughter.

Because she has a tumbling pass coming up.

And if she falls on her head.

Well.

WHAT OF HER THEN?

HMM?!!

WILL SHE RUN OFF?!

WILL SHE POWER THROUGH?

Clenched tights. Tight fists.

(you, not her)

Fewf.

No falls.

Everything is looking good. It's feeling good!

Now..

It's almost the end.

And your eyes are burning with tears

because you KNOW.

You feel the energy in the air.

You see the confidence on every face.

The smiles, and the sass..

You can see the coaches going crazy, clapping along to the music at the end dance section.

Bringing the girls home.

You know.. They killed it.

They know they killed it.

And so does the entire crowd.

When the music stops the girls will be jumping, and screaming, and hugging

Because they KNOW.

And it is so fun to watch.

You practically explode from pride at what those cute sweet girls have accomplished today.

Because you know how HARD they have worked to perform the way they just performed.

It is just sooo exciting.

And relieving..

But ya know..

Sometimes, it just doesn't go down like that.

Sometimes you see a pyramid going wrong, so you cover your eyes, and look down.

And when you look back up, the girl that was on your daughters shoulders a second ago is now on the ground...

Along with a good handful of other sparkly little girls...

And there are scared faces, and sad eyes. and some tears.

And there is no jumping, and screaming......

But there is hugging.

Always hugging.

And sympathy for each other.

For the one that fell, the stunt that bobbled, orrrr..

The sweet little girl that was battling the flu alll day, but powered through.

And maybe threw up a little on the in the middle of the routine..

There is unwavering sympathy.

And bonding.

There is lots of value in humility.

Because.

Sometimes sassy little cheerleaders need a bit of humility.

There is value in 2nd. or 7th.

There is for sure value in losing something that you have worked so HARD for.

It's all so intense.

The days are long, and fun.

Win or lose

Good or bad.

It was always so fun!

I love cheer.

And.

Ill tell you what.

Being a girl, that was raised and immersed in nothing but girl girl girl things.

And zero sports.

I don't even know how to roller skate.

Baseball is extremely complex to me.

I'm something like 4 for 3457 in basketball shots.

Walking a chewing gum is an accomplishment for me.

Really. I'm not just saying that.

I didn't know what a blessing it was being raised in a home with NO SPORTS CENTER!

And even now that I know a little bit about a little bit, having been married for a good amount of time,

I still can't pull it off.

Like.

I could never say "top of the 7th. full count" and sound normal.

It would be like hearing your very Mormon uncle say the F word.

It just doesn't flo.

And sounds weird.

And you want it to stop.

I'm getting off subject here.

What I am trying to say is,

I could not be happier to have found a sport that has a positive outcome, win or lose.

That I can encourage and participate in without feeling like a fish out of water.

A sport that has built mental toughness in my baby that I didn't know she had.

But has kept her soft around the edges, and dependent on her mommy.

And.

While we are on the subject of "sport"

Even Eric and Ryan got into it all..

Which. To be honest, there was some heavy eye rolling before the season actually started.

The energy buzz infected them too!

I mean. Of course Eric was into it with it being his little princess and all.

Tatum poops gold nuggets in his eyes.

But Ryan was a tougher sale.

He is the youngest of 5 boys after all.

And as much as I was raised doing all girl things, he was raised doing all boy things.

Times five million.

But even my Ryan totally got into the competitive aspect of it all..

"Oohh Tatum.. MAC is here.. You guys bring your A game today?"

He got familiar with our competitors, what levels do what, and dare I say, enjoyed watching not only Tatum's divisions, but the upper divisions that do crazy stunts and tumbling.

And bonus ma Hayley was a cheerleader in HS, so it was right up her ally too.

We all really enjoyed the entire season.

I can't say enough about how fun this last year has been.

The growth in Tatum has just been incredible.

To see her committed so fully to something.

It's very encouraging as a parent.

And not just because she is a cheerleader.

But because she is a cheerleader at Elite Academy.

They are a smaller company, so they are personal. intimate. and invested.

They know each girl personally.

And the families.

The holiday parties, sleep overs, secret sisters, traveling, the professional cheer pictures,

and just the overall atmosphere of Elite Academy is unbeatable.

There were lots of wins.

Plenty of firsts.

But, even without, there is no place we would rather be.

Elite has changed a lot about Tatum's life.

She spends a lot of time there, with people that can make or break her spirit.

That get to choose how to discourage, or encourage her.

I am beyond grateful that we have found a place that coaches my daughter as an individual, and takes their responsibility of treating her well seriously.

Tatum hurt her back for the last two competitions of the season.

Both of them were national competitions.

She was out with a herniated disk.

And we found out the evening before the comp.

She was beyond heartbroken, and totally stressed about letting her teams down.

Her 2 cheer coaches, the owner of Elite, and her tumbling coach were the best during that sad time.

They mourned the loss of her on their team, rallied and worked hard to train her replacement, and hugged her when she was standing alone off the stage while her teams were jumping around hugging each other at the end of their routines.

Her tumbling coach still texts me at least a couple of times a week checking in, and offering to help.

And the other cheer moms.

Incredible. All of them incredible.

I really have met some great women.

With great daughters.

I love them.

Tatum loves them.

And they love Tatum.

I love cheer.

Okay.

That's enough.

I'm babbling.