For most Houstonians, it goes without saying that the Houston Rodeo is an important time of year. The Rodeo itself has billed the season as Houston’s Super Bowl, and without a doubt, it’s a bucket-list experience for anyone new to the city or visiting from out of town.

But each year, along with the excitement over the entertainment lineup, the ever-crowded tents at the World Championship Bar-B-Que Cook-off, and the anticipation that comes with planning a Rodeo outfit, there’s another feeling I’ve become all too familiar with: dread.

This year, I felt noticeably more anxiety than FOMO. As the invites started rolling in and my husband and I debated which shows to attend (read: which ones we could actually score tickets to), I felt excited—at first. I had ambitious ideas about how we’d do the Rodeo this year, but once we started mapping out a plan, my special Rodeo Anxiety crept in. And then the questions:

How are we getting there?

Who’s driving?

Is it better to carpool?

Where will we park?

Should we take a rideshare?

Where’s the best place to depart?

Should we eat beforehand?

What’s the weather like?

With all the logistical calculations floating around my head, I started second-guessing everything. At one point, I had to ask myself: Did I even want to go to the Rodeo?

Rodeo only happens once a year, I told myself. And then the counterargument came just as quickly: Yes, but it happens every year.

Before kids—before exhaustion became an almost permanent state, we’d go to the Rodeo at least twice, sometimes more. We braved the crowds and the traffic like it was nothing.

Now, with two toddlers at home and busy workweeks, the equation feels different. Driving ourselves, sitting in traffic, or paying a hefty rideshare fee just to get there suddenly feels less like a fun night out and more like a logistical puzzle. Maybe it’s the phase of motherhood I’m in, or maybe I’m just getting old.

Rodeo Anxiety is by no means a technical or official term, but boy, does it feel real. Friends have admitted they feel the same mix of obligation and restlessness around Rodeo season. We want to go. It feels almost un-Houstonian not to. It’s exciting once you’re there with a funnel cake in hand and settled into your seat in the arena. Considering the fun to be had once you’re there, the FOMO can be dreadful. But so is getting there (and getting home).  

Like many Houstonians, we try to get creative. Getting there early, while it’s still light out, has been my go-to. Some people are booking private car services for the night, turning what could be a stressful drive into a more social outing. Others are making a full evening of it, pregaming at restaurants along the light rail line before hopping on the train to NRG, or opting for rideshare (Street to Kitchen, for example, has encouraged diners to do exactly that).

Still, there’s something about all the mental math that comes with Rodeo season that makes me uneasy and occasionally tempted to stay home. Waiting in lines, braving the traffic, circling endlessly for parking—it’s all part of the Rodeo experience. But this year, my husband and I made a decision: one visit to the Rodeo is more than enough.

Sometimes, one night under the stadium lights is all the Rodeo you really need.