In the Sports Mom Era: Embracing Your Parenthood Sweet Spot
Inside: The joys, messes, and magic of the sports mom era.
Some moms are incredible with babies. Some moms rock the toddler years. But for me, the sports mom era is where I’m thriving.
Are you in your “Where is my jersey?” or “Did you pack the folding chairs?” stage, too? Or is that stage coming up around the corner? Then this one, my friends, is for you.
The Baby Mom Years
Babies are cute, don’t get me wrong. My little ones had the best cheeks and the sweetest laughs. Their month-by-month pictures that I (mostly) remembered to take are adorable documentation of their growth from baby to toddler.
But if I’m being honest with you, I could never baby wear without both of us crying. In fact, I cried a lot in the baby mom years.
I didn’t know what I was doing; everything felt like a crisis, and yet, in the chaos, I sometimes felt bored.
The baby mom years were a blur. A cuddly, reflux-filled, sleepless, beautiful blur.
The Toddler Mom Years
In the toddler mom years, my kids’ personalities shined through. Funny and competitive. Determined and kind. They began to explore their little worlds and they took me with them on the ride.
And yet…
The very idea of getting a toddler to nap still puts me in a cold sweat. There is melted crayon that will forever live in the crevices of my home. And one time I found a Barbie shoe, with a raisin stuffed inside, wedged into my hair.
Toddlers are hilarious. Toddlers keep you in prime physical condition because they never sit down. And toddlers will inevitable toddle, and our freezer still holds many small ice packs that were acquired during those years.
The toddler mom years were a blur of their own. A Goldfish cracker, sweet smile, mall tantrum, I don’t know how to reason with you blur.
The Sports Mom Years
Now that my kids are older, I’m in the sports mom era. And while each era has its perks, I must say that sports mom is where it’s at.
Dinner is at 4:30 or 8:30, but that’s fine because no one is telling tales of my cooking to future generations. My car is like a magician’s hat, making sporting equipment disappear, but everything turns up. Eventually.
Yet, through the chaos of carpooling, I get to witness history being made. Their history.
At the end of each long and sweaty day, I know my kids will remember these moments of joy, triumph, pain, and dedication. And watching these kids do what they love while building character and confidence, that’s the stuff right there.
Through sports, they have built strong friendships, and so have I. Through sports, they have gained confidence in their ability to embrace a challenge, and so have I.
It’s tricky to help kids manage nerves and frustration when things go wrong. It’s tough to teach them all the nuances of being a great teammate and watch how they put those lessons into action on their own. It’s hard to watch them fall without being an arm’s length away to catch them.
Oh, but when it all clicks, and you get to celebrate all the mental, emotional, and physical victories with them…it’s magic.
The Best is Yet to Come
I’m on the road a lot as a sports mom, and I see you out there in your packed SUVs and minivans. And I know that if I’m looking for you or you’re looking for me over the next decade, you’ll likely find us in the stands. Or driving a carpool. Or washing a uniform.
We’ll likely be busy on Saturday and Sunday, and actually every night, I think?
But we’ll be busy smiling, cheering, and growing and that’s more than fine by me. In fact, I’m leaning hard into this chapter of my life and career, because just like the baby years and the toddler years, this time is going to go by fast.
This is my sports mom era. My career sweet spot make work fit around my life, not the other way around era. The watch them soar era. And it’s right where I’m supposed to be.
