Rocket Mom

This week, I attended The Little Mermaid at my daughter's high school.  At the musical, there was a mom who appeared to be in charge of the front of the house, hanging out in the lobby, checking on ticket sales and the ushers.  (The back of the house was likely managed by the drama, choir and orchestra teachers.)   At the end of the show, the mom made a short presentation asking families to attend a Drama Club fundraiser coming up in a few weeks.

I got me thinking -- this woman is a Drama Mom.  The likelihood of me becoming a Drama Mom at this point is slim to none, along with not being

• a Football Mom,
• a Cheer Mom,  
• a Hockey Mom or 
• a Baseball Mom. 

I find it interesting that we don't get to choose what kind of mom we become.  Our kids choose, and we follow.  We belong to club of parents based on the interests of our kids, which makes me

• a First Lego League Mom, 
• a (former) Math Champs Mom, 
• a Soccer Mom and most recently, 
• a Rocket Mom.  

Jack has taken the lead with Claire Adele's activities, making him

• a Chess Dad, 
• a Cross Country Dad and 
• a Track and Field Dad.  

While I enjoy these different flavors of motherhood, I sometimes tire of being dragged along to countless activities.  In most cases, I don't mind hanging out making small talk with the other parents on the sidelines or in the field between launches.  Most of the time, it is fun.  Last week, however, the Boy had three soccer games in one weekend, and all of them were far away from home.  I began to wonder if this were a waste of time, spending eight hours of the weekend watching my kid exercise while I sat on my duff.  What could I have done instead?

• Grocery Shop
• Regular Shop
• Exercise
• Hang with Claire Adele
• Write
• Paint
• Garden
• Did I say exercise?

But what do I gain?

• I get to see a different part of town
• Run into people I haven't seen in ages
• Follow the dramatic arc of the game
• See the goals he saved, and the goals he missed.

Today was Rocket Club.  All of these events have drama, not just Drama Club.  Soccer is win or lose, First Lego League is watching a robot run through an obstacle course collecting points.  Will the robot crash, or miss its mark, or will it be well behaved and have a perfect run?  Rocket Club is no different.  Today's launch didn't take off on the first try, and almost fell apart on the second. The Boy was pushing the launch button, and the crowd was holding its breath.  Five seconds after the first countdown, "There was a deafening roar," according to the Boy.  And off went Mantra, into the sky, reaching 810 feet, missing its goal of 800 feet by just a bit.  The flight time was just one second off the goal, too.   The team went wild.  I recorded the launch on my camera, and the boy watched it a dozen times when we came home.

A common job interview is to ask someone where they want to be in ten years.  Ten years ago, I never would have imagined that I'd be standing in the middle of Sixty Acres Park watching middle schoolers shoot off rockets, but there I was.  Likely, the Drama Mom didn't know ten years ago that she'd be in stage, promoting a fundraiser for Drama Club.  But here we are, living the unexpected, in a most happy way.