In My Sports Mom Era

Every year, on Mother’s Day, I reflect on what we did in previous years. I always marvel at how much motherhood changes over time. Gone are my days of nap times, diapers, and searching for local family weekend activities.

Now that time is filled with cleats, crazy calendars, and lots of sports. The past couple of years have been a transition, but now I can say with 100% certainty (with all three kids in sports) that I’m in my “Sports Mom Era.” I can also say with 100% certainty that I’m here for it.

Sure, it’s an exhausting and overwhelming phase of life. But it’s also the best. It seems like such an oxymoron to be stressed but also so happy at the same time, but that’s youth sports for you.

Here’s what I mean…

You’re eating dinner at 4 p.m. or 9 p.m. on weeknights, but it also means watching your kids do something they love and enjoy.

You’re doing loads of laundry (hello, white baseball pants), but you are watching your kids develop into teammates and be part of something bigger.

You’re spending so much time in your car and dropping kids off at different practices, but you’re also teaching them commitment and dedication.

You’re standing in the pouring rain or freezing cold watching games, but also doing it with a tribe of other “Sports Moms” and creating bonds and friendships (shout out to my “Sports Mom” crew. Love you all.).

You’re wishing for “just one night off” of practice and being a little bored at the same time.

It means weekends are filled with games and not much time for other things, but you also realize this phase of life will be fleeting (just like the baby years), and the fun you’re all having now won’t always be happening.

Here’s the bottom line. It’s hard, but more than hard, it’s FUN. So keep washing the jerseys, organizing team events, driving them to practice, and dealing with the stink (if you know, you know!) 

But also enjoy the games (win or lose), the practices, and the life lessons. And for you, the friendships, the laughs, the support from other “Sports Moms.” It will go fast, and I know one day, I’ll wish I was at a football field at 8 a.m. on a Sunday. Maybe.