High School

  Tonight we went to see Abby cheer at her last basketball game of the year (and high school!) It was in the same school that I attended, in the same stinky gym. I think it had gotten stinkier. Instead of doing my makeup in the girls locker room, I changed my baby's diaper on a bench. Instead of standing in the student section, I was on the other side of the gym feeding my kids string cheese and attempting to keep them upright on the bleachers. Instead of primping before the game, I changed out of my cute sweater (ok, Hayley's cute sweater) into my comfy Patagonia zip-up, jeans and the same boots I've worn everyday since they arrived in the mail in December.
  I looked at the cheerleaders' long skinny legs and tiny waists and thought, "I used to have a body like that." And there I sat with fifteen extra pounds on me and stretch marks from knees to neck. Every time a teenager passed me, I enjoyed a not-so-subtle whiff of perfume or cologne. I used to smell good all the time. I used to know a lot of people and have a lot of friends. I used to eat anything I wanted and stay up late. I used to save my cutest clothes for "B" days, cause there were cuter boys in those classes. I used to eat lunch with friends everyday. I used to get invited to parties and dances. I used to worry about myself. Pretty much exclusively. And the list goes on.
  I was so happy to come home tonight, brush my babies' teeth. Snuggle them up in their jammies and say bedtime prayers. I was thrilled to chat with my husband, take some cold medicine and watch private practice on the laptop on the living room floor while eating the remnants of a chik-fil-a brownie. When Charlie woke up, I got to take him potty and snuggle him back to sleep. In the morning, I will be exhausted. The kids will be grouchy because they stayed up too late, dancing on the basketball court and our house will be a mess.
 While I can admit, I didn't appreciate all the good things I had in high school, I wouldn't go back for anything. Ever.