The Time of my Life

Last Friday night, we attended eye-rolling-whatever-mumbling-compliment-me-and-love-me-only-when-he-wants-something's high school football game. He isn't playing. He was on JV this year but some of the kids he has grown up with moved to varsity. We know many of the parents and had been invited several times. And honestly, I had this nostalgia feeling about a Friday night football game, being a dancerette, performing with the band at halftime, watching everyone decorate themself in school colors in the name of school spirit. So, we went.

Let me tell you---my memories were not far off and the night oddly enough didn't disappoint. Let's bullet point a few things that have not changed.

• The energy. Those kids and families are creating a vibe that can't be reproduced.


• The cheerleaders. Well, this actually may have improved/evolved. I don't recall some of the stunts and gymnastics that I witnessed. It was quite impressive.


• The band. I have to tell you that "our" band: not so good. The guest's band made me want to sneak over to the other side and bust a move. Luckily, there were 200 of them and they made their presence known from across the field. They were incredible and played recognizable music - current and classic.


• The dancerettes. Having fun, laughing and dancing with the band as they dueled each other.


• The crowd. The excitement when your team scores a touchdown. The collective "Whaaaaat?!?!" when a ref makes a perceived bad call. The teenagers in the student section hanging out with their best friends, boyfriends/girlfriends enjoying the game. The couple of kids that choose not to wear shirts but rather paint their bodies in school colors to appear as if the paint is the shirt in the hopes that the news crew will put them on T.V. (which they did).
• The "notice me-er's". The girls or guys who went all out hoping to be noticed by the opposite sex of their choice. You can always tell when 3 girls are walking by, flipping the hair, laughing, briefly looking just to look away......and juuuuuuust when they get passed the person, they pretend they forgot something and they have to walk by again. It screams "Hey! Look at me!" Interesting and funny to watch as an adult knowing what I know now.


• The rebellious girls. The ones that left the house wearing significantly more clothing and drastically less make up.


• The dweller. You know....the former quarterback, homecoming king that sits in the stands with vodka in his water bottle because he hasn't been able to reproduce the feeling he had in high school.

Things that have changed: Pants seem tighter, shorts are shorter, hair is straight, bangs--- if you have them, fall on your forehead---not sticking straight up in the air like antennae, definitely less hair spray and absolutely no aqua net---and a lot of fist pumping. Other than that, seems like old times. LOL

Our team won and is going to the playoffs. Great game, great night. I was reminded of so many good feeling memories---as well as some of the bad. The drama. The "he-said-she-said" game. The break ups. The people who use you. The emotions. The hormones. The struggle between grades and a social life. Fitting in. Finding you. Figuring out who "you" are. Thinking that I just needed to get through this point in time because it would get better when I got out.

I sat there feeling this incessant need to inform all of these future adults to embrace these moments.....to tell them that this is the time of your life. I wanted to tell the former quarterback that life goes on and you can't hold on to what used to be. If you hold on too strong, you'll miss out on what's available to you right now. I wanted to tell the "notice me-er" girl if he doesn't notice you---find someone else who does.

Then, I had a conversation with a guy who "peaked" in high school. He was funny, cute, key player on the football team and really enjoyed high school----I mean really. So much so that he can't enjoy anything that has happened after that because being an adult can't compete. It's a lot easier to be a super star in a building filled with 1,500 people than it is to be noticed in the real world. I was trying (gently) to tell this guy that he has let the past 20 years slip away because he is hung up on high school.

I kid you not, when I have my actual epiphany, there is a sound in my head that sounds like screeching tires. That symbolizes my brain coming to an immediate halt and taking in the new info. So, insert "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" here.

Aren't we all guilty of not embracing the moment? Some are stuck in the past. Coulda, shoulda and woulda are the 3 musketeers following you around. (Well, my 3 musketeers might have also come in the form of a rectangular like gooey substance coated with a semi-hard shell in a pretty silver wrapper---but, hey, we all handle it on our own way. ;) I am guilty of saying things like "If the baby would just crawl, he wouldn't be so frustrated and life would be better" only to say "If he could just walk, things would be easier" followed by "Can you please just sit still" that eventually leads to "I can't wait until all of you are 18 and I can live my life" which regrettably leaves you feeling sad, wishing you could go back and leaving voice messages with things like "Why haven't you called? I miss and love you."

Don't wish your life away hoping to get to the next phase. Don't waste your life away wishing you could go back. Create the now. Enjoy the now. It doesn't matter what it is. Captain of the cheerleading team, quarterback, head of the Science Team, just giving birth to triplets, waking up every 2 hours to feed a newborn, loosing your home, getting a divorce--- This is the time of your life. It's the time of your life to make it the time of your life.

Time can do a lot of things. But it doesn't give back.

Don't be the 30-something that gets stuck in the teen years only to wake up one day 50-something and realize that 30-something could have been pretty damn good if you had actually lived it.

That's just how I see it. But maybe it's my misperception.