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Ahh, my daughter is a cheerleader.

That’s so difficult for me to say. You are probably all staring at the screen like I am crazy right now… allow me to paint you a picture. This girl…. yes, me…. was the high school newspaper editor. I hated the cheerleaders. Those girls in their perfect bodies, little sports cars, blonde hair, blue eyes, tan legs, giant boobs, flawless smiles, and then to top it off that annoying perma-grin, head bopping, pep that always seemed to be encompassing them as they walked.


Just shoot me in the face. They bounce and flip their pony tails that are pinned up and wrapped in perfect ribbons. As they walked the hallways in school, you moved out of their way because they had this glowing aura around them that was sure to strike a little nerd like me down. Then of course there was the ever-present argument of cheer being a sport. That always made me laugh. As far as I was concerned, someone went to our school football games, picked the prettiest, perkiest, dingiest girls out of the crowd (a crowd full of people “cheering” for the team already) and dressed them in skimpy skirts and handed them pom poms. Whoop-ti-do.

If I haven’t painted the picture for you yet of just how much I loathe cheerleaders then I probably won’t be able to. Now I have one. I would never keep my daughters from chasing their dreams. I will back and support them in all of their endeavours. So now. I have a CHEERLEADER.

It’s so cute to watch her practice and work hard at it. She really loves it, and although I still am not a fan of cheerleading, there’s something inside me that realizes maybe I hated the cheerleaders as much as I did because they seemed to exude a self-confidence that I definitely did not possess myself at 16 years old. I hope it gives Hailey the self-confidence that I remember those girls bouncing down the hall way possessing. They owned the school. I just hope Hailey remembers that although she has blonde hair and blue eyes and all that sassy attitude there are still other people walking down the hallway with her, watching her, wishing they were who she is.

That mixed with the giant stomach churning feeling that I really don’t want this….. (and this is not Hailey of course)

To turn into this…..

Really, really, really, not.