Room service

This last weekend was a busy one. I had to work and three of the estrogen monsters had state finals for Winterguard. Of course state finals has to be in Saginaw, it also is an all day affair with the awards and wrap up not being until after 10pm. Considering I strongly prefer to be in my bed by 9pm, wrapping up after that while being two hours from home, sounded like it called for a hotel room. Hello, Marriott.

Finals went fine. I don’t think they were all thrilled with the placement, but it was a great performance. I don’t think we got out of there and back to the hotel until after 11pm. Yawn.

Once upon a time, I led a quiet, and fairly unassuming life. I wasn’t a band mom, I didn’t know what a “band mom” even was, and life was dull. Enter 2014 and High School Marching Band, and I became a band mom. What I now know was one of the most important band mom lessons: Do NOT travel without blue painters tape. I’ve taken plenty of band trips with an awful lot of students. Hotels galore. I’ve had bed sheets tied from balconies, a family of dead snails, spreading the sticky odor of gastropod death throughout a hotel room, kids impaled by sea urchins and plenty of lost hotel keys. (If you have never smelled rotting snail, you’re really missing out.) Anyway, what have I NEVER had happen you ask? I have never lost a kid. I’ve never had a kid leave a room overnight, hit up their room in the morning and have them no where to be found. Not until this weekend.

You see, band travel trick number ONE. Each night you do a room check then you tape them in the room. Kids can’t open the door from the inside without breaking the tape. It is an easy system. I know it well and I know better than to NOT utilize it. Yet here I am, without my blue tape. I could have run to the Home Depot across the street, or even the Target. Then I thought there is no way I need to to that with just my own girls. Why did I think that? Because, as a group, I’m pretty sure all these girls are killing off my brain cells faster than a teenage girl can pick up a vape in a high school bathroom. Obviously in this particular instance I skipped the blue tape. There is a first AND a last for everything.

Fast forward to 9am. Two girls in my room are still sleeping. Based on previous experiences, I’m going to guess the three girls in the room nextdoor are also still asleep. I wake the two in my room and head nextdoor to wake them and dish out any morning meds.

As I exit my room and look at their door the first thing I see is the safety latch engaged in order to prop the room door open. Yeah. This is bad. I walk in to see multiple TV’s still on, some couch cushions amiss and, of course, no girls. I look for a note and find nothing. I check my phone to see if I missed something. Nothing there. I call Cohort and I get no response. I can’t really tell you how that moment feels. I can tell you that it’s not good. I sat for a minute, picked up the room, called hubby, locked the room and left. I made a quick stop back in my room to explain to the other two girls that we were now missing three….. “WHAT?!?!?” they yelled back. For a moment I had to take pause and appreciate that OG Drama was just appalled that the three girls took off. Not that long ago she was climbing out second story windows with two of them during the night. Oh how far we have come.

I headed down to the lobby and eventually ran into Sassy Britches and Cohort enjoying a leisurely breakfast with some people I didn’t know. Wonderful. I ask where Daytime Emmy Nominee is, only to be told she’s up in the room. Uhhh, try again friends, she’s most certainly not in the room anymore than the two of you are. Duh. I try to give each of them an idea of what they’ve done here, and what a bad idea it was without yelling. As I’m giving them my best angry mom face, Daytime Emmy Nominee strolls up to ask how I am. If I didn’t already live this lunacy everyday I would have asked her what the hell was she thinking. I send them all towards the elevator and Sassy Britches has started in on her excuses and reasons why this was a perfectly acceptable way to start the day. Cohort just tells me she forgot we had “plans today” and she was hungry so she left. I don’t know why she didn’t answer the phone when I called, and I didn’t ask because I prefer to limit the opportunities and temptations given to lie to me.

We get back up to the rooms where I explain that the plans for the day are now cancelled and we are headed directly home. Cohort wants extra time to take a shower. Gee, why not. Have your spa time and let me know when you’re ready. An hour later, after I’ve now missed breakfast and I’m at the check out time limit, she’s ready to go. How do I know she’s ready? I found her standing in the hall waiting. Cohort has made it her life’s mission to communicate with me as little as humanly possible. Which of course is my fault. I mean come on, catch up here.

Here I am again, back on the elevator and Sassy Britches is trying to get out as many excuses to justify the room skipping, as she possibly can. I finally explained that unless what she had to say started with “I’m so sorry, that was a bad idea” that she were better off to exercise her right to remain silent. Heaven forbid we learn when to stop talking.

We made the trek home, mostly in silence, until some other drama popped up. Someone had accused Daytime Emmy Nominee of stealing a vape. Of course it wasn’t her because she absolutely doesn’t do that anymore. Duh…again. Eventually she pulled a vape out of her bra and handed it over. I really just want to be at home now and fast forward to my bedtime. Where is the button I push to make that happen? And why the hell didn’t I just go buy the damn blue tape?

As the excitement from that drama winds down, Sassy Britches and Cohort start snickering in the backseat. I ask them to stop the chatter. It continues. I ask again. It continues. I explain that they ruined the day for everyone else in the car, so the very least they could do is be somber and act remorseful. Still snickering. I now flip on some Led Zeppelin and crank it up basically as loud as I can get it and try to focus on the music and not the two girls carrying on. I probably would have been successful had Cohort not made it a point to just be louder. I let her know I could still hear her and asked her to stop. She replied, “I’m aware” and added “I have the right to speak” for good measure. At that point I saw red and decided whatever was hilarious on the phone wasn’t worth the little bit of sanity I had left and I demanded the phone. She fought me on it but eventually gave in. You know, because it’s my phone, that I pay for that she has every right to use as she wishes. Sure, kid. Sure.

I’m just about home now, with a mint flavored vape and a red iPhone in my lap. I’ve been driving and thinking for some time what to do with them and how I’m going to re-center myself to avoid yelling. Tossed around the idea of stopping at the cemetery and excusing myself for a cool down walk around the place and utilizing the dumpster. However, after the morning no blue tape incident, I don’t need to come back to an empty car, so that’s a no go. I keep driving and make my way on the last stretch towards home along the river. I pulled over, tossed the vape and the phone into the water. At which point Cohort decides she’s leaving and not getting back in the car. She’s over 17, and I’m not fighting that fight and I’m certainly not going to force her in. I let her know I was leaving and then… I did.

Sassy Britches screamed at me the rest of the way home. It felt like the longest two minutes of my life. She let me know how I didn’t care about them and that I am a terrible mother and not really a mother at all. It was in that moment that I yelled. If you know me well, you know I don’t often yell. When I do, there is no mistaking it and you won’t forget it. I told her she was right, I wasn’t her mother. I wasn’t Cohorts mother. Cohort had made it very clear to me over the last three years that I wasn’t her mom and she had already decided she didn’t want one anyway. Sassy Britches told me I was wrong about that. OG Drama whipped her head around and told her I was indeed correct. Daytime Emmy Nominee was speechless for what I’m sure was the very first time in her life.

We ended up at home. The girls unloaded the car and Hubby came out to ride back down the street to pickup Cohort. She berated me all the way home. It was a good time.

The lesson: my entire Sunday could have been spared by a roll of blue tape. Listen to the lessons band moms teach you!