It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...it was the last day of the Broadmoor Open.
The day began with my six-year-old competing on the World Arena surface. She had a blast, and the Momzillas were really quite well-behaved overall. I did see one chastising her daughter, probably six or seven years old, for messing up her makeup with ketchup when she had hot dogs for brunch, then complaining that parents were not allowed in the locker rooms near the ice surface. But other than that, things were quite tame. And to that Momzilla's credit, when her daughter cried after getting last place in both of her events, Momzilla made her put on a good-sport happy face and smile for the picture. I suppose that this could be perceived either way -- as a sign of sportsmanship or a desperate attempt to save the eye makeup from a Tammy Faye-esque demise. In the spirit of "the best of times" in the tale of our first city, Colorado Springs, I choose to believe the former.
Unfortunately, this had to be A Tale of Two Cities, and the other one was Albuquerque, where we spent the night on our drive home. Now, to be fair, I have never met an unkind soul from Albuquerque and really have no reason to despise it...except for the motel that Hotwire mistakenly labeled a 2-star. In my own version of "the worst of times", I did my best to encourage my kids not to touch anything in the room where we stayed just long enough for me to get some sleep to get us safely back on the road. The room looked clean, but let's just say that I have never been so grateful to not have a blacklight with me.
So now we are safely back to our "normal" routine. This particular Momzilla is exhausted from a full week of skating glory with the kids, but happy to be home.