Loading up the car to go home for the holidays felt different this time, like Christmas had somehow tricked us all and snuck in early while no one was looking. But we were taking a slight detour before the big gathering — a girls trip to Pigeon Forge for the Deep South Spirit Cheer Tour, where my youngest daughter's cheer team would be competing.
I must admit, it wouldn't have been my first choice for a prequel to celebrating the holidays with family in Nashville. If you prefer peace on Earth and good will toward men as your vibe this time of year, the Gatlinburg - Pigeon Forge area is not exactly ideal.
And I'd like to have a few words with the scheduler who thought it's a good idea to put a competition right in the middle of a working mom's most frantic month, when the kids are exhausted from the school semester and we all just want cozy socks and to binge our favorite show.
Still, we were going to make the best of it and just glad to get away. After a final check on luggage, my 15-year-old chose the back seat and made a plush hangout within minutes, AirPods in hand. The youngest sat up front with me, eager to see the mountains and finally put on the blue and yellow rhinestoned competition uniform that's been hanging in her closet for six long, agonizing weeks.
It had been almost as long since they last rode together in the same vehicle, my two girls. Between the older sister's high school marching band obligations and the younger's intense practice schedule, their lives rotated on separate axes.
Once bunk buddies who giggled all night together when they should have been sleeping, they were now involved in their own pursuits. Six years difference can feel like 60 at certain age gaps, particularly in the tweens.
After several rotations of Olivia Rodrigo and Paramore albums, plenty of chocolate, and a pit stop at Buc-ees (because of all the obvious tranquility present there), we made it to the hotel, tired and content. I overheard my youngest get a sweet pep talk from her older sister about overcoming tomorrow morning's stage fright, and then they piled in bed together with Christmas blankets and played with Snapchat filters until midnight.
Their giggles filled the room, just like all those years ago, before the cheerleader and the marching band percussionist pursued separate interests. They were sisters, still, and always would be.
That chaotic detour is one for the books for this mom, who would drive it again in a heartbeat just to see my girls bond. I hope your holiday plans bring the same magical reminders, and everyone stays safe on the road as you travel.