When my kids were toddlers, I remember looking forward to the days when they were older. The days when they were past potty-training and high chairs, the days when I would have more free time.
Little did I know….
Enter my life as a crazed sports mom. Don’t get me wrong, I love watching my boys play sports more than anything. I just wish someone had developed a handbook to guide me through these times. Since Amazon seems to be fresh out of such a book, I’ve outlined a few pointers of my own (names have been changed to protect the innocent, and/or obnoxious).
WHAT NOT TO WEAR: CLEATS EDITION
I want you all to know I’ve discovered the latest conspiracy theory. No, I’m not talking about the JFK assassination, man on the moon, or even Valentine’s Day. No, my friends, I am talking about cleats.
Football cleats, baseball cleats, soccer cleats, metal cleats, rubber cleats…..could Clinton Kelly please do a show explaining the difference? Something along the lines of “and for bright summer days sprinting across the baseball diamond, a nice rubber toe cleat will accent any players wardrobe”. Or maybe flashcards, i.e. “a cleat with no toe spike, ankle height, often preferred in bright colors” Answer: Soccer cleat. Ding Ding Ding…I win, time to take another shot (whoops….that’s a different drinking game, ignore that).
THE TROUBLE WITH BOYS
I’m a mom of two boys. I’m sure girls come with their own set of issues, but I was completely unprepared for some of the issues that come with having boys who play sports. For one thing, my car smells like a mixture of gym socks, top soil, and a Big Mac. Ok, the last part may be because I dropped part of a Big Mac under my seat, but the rest is their fault, I promise.
Second, I would like to forewarn all you new mothers that boys wear cups. This is something girls are unfamiliar with purchasing. It would have been like my dad having to buy me a training bra. I’ll never forget the embarrassment of asking the 17 year-old sales clerk at the sporting good store to help me pick out a cup. Did you know those things come in SIZES?!!! When he asked me if I needed a jock strap or briefs to accompany it, I ran straight out the door to the nearest Taco Bell.
With sports, one thing is inevitable, the comparison of how well your kid did in that day’s events. While I enjoy hearing about Billy’s “three home runs in the first inning, followed up by a single-handed triple play to end the game”, or Sally, who “scored all the goals for her team”, and of course, I nod and agree that they are both clearly on track to become professional athletes. However, my smart-aleck self can’t help but formulate responses of my own.
“Did you see that coach writhing in pain?” I would say. “That was my little Jimmy….threw it back when he wasn’t looking. I really think that showcases the strength of Jimmy’s arm, and besides, it’s not my fault coaches don’t wear cups. PS – the snack shack is now completely out of ice”.
Or better yet, “After 4 years on the team, my son made his first tackle. Granted, it was in the parking lot after the game, and may have involved a bag of Doritos, but his technique was impeccable. I think he just might be the next Clay Mathews”.
So for all of you mothers out there with post-its on your steering wheel, mouth guards in your purse, and sunflower seeds stuck to your pant leg, just keep on chugging. While this time of your life may be frenzied and hectic, there is no greater joy than watching your children play the sports that they love.
And on the bright side, a dinner of concession stand nachos means we didn’t have to cook.