By Melissa Hart

 Covering 20 shows in four states over the last three weeks, I’ve had the opportunity to see a lot of great people and take a lot of photos. All these shows have one thing in common, and it doesn’t matter what state, what show or what species, the same phenomenon happens at every show: the ringside parent.

Every parent has done it and every time I see it, I chuckle to myself because I’ve been there and done that. They come in all shapes, sizes and varieties, and I have made an attempt to define a few of them here.

The Nervous Pacer. This parent is exhausting as they pace back and forth before their child goes into the ring. Then they spew about 17 last-minute instructions for the child as they enter the ring, none of which the child will remember. They will spend the rest of the time pacing at the outgate or walking around the outside of the ring saying encouraging things to their child. They would like to go unnoticed, but that’s impossible with their sudden bursts of, ‘Keep your eye on the judge!’ or ‘Put her head up!’ or ‘Move her back feet!’ I’ve been her.

The Silent Partner. They try to say everything with facial expressions and their eyes are crucial to communication. Don’t misconstrue their narrow eyes and furrowed brow for anger, they are trying to communicate something very specific and the only one who has a clue of what they are saying is their spouse. But they believe their child will know exactly what they are saying, except they don’t. And they think they are being incredibly discrete, except they aren’t, because their child pays more attention to the parent instead of the judge. Whiplash is a common result for these kids as they spend the whole time in the ring looking back and forth from the parent to the judge.

The third base coach. They have hand signals for every movement. They try not to say much, but every once in a while, you’ll hear a squeak or a moan of frustration. They will talk quietly with a clenched jaw, and you know when their eyes get really big, they are frustrated beyond belief because their 9-year-old across the ring is overwhelmed with signal confusion. The child doesn’t know if they are supposed to keep moving or set the heifer up or which hind foot to move back or forward. By the time they figure it out, the class is over.

The absent mom. She’s the mom of multiple kids who is just happy her son went into the ring with pants on and her daughter’s heifer is clean. She doesn’t even watch; she will hear all about it when the kids come back from the ring. She’s too busy keeping the crew fed, keeping the younger kids from fighting over the last piece of bacon and looking for a clean coffee cup to have her 4th cup of the morning.

Parents are parents no matter what the species. We all want our kids to succeed. And there’s nothing better than the livestock show atmosphere where everyone gathers, competes and enjoys the fellowship of like-minded folks for a few days to recharge before they go back to the grind of the family farm.