Sports are our life. Our kids love them, we love them, and yes, we are one of those over the top obsessed families. There is nothing better than a weekend with beautiful weather, loading up the car with wagons and coolers, and heading off to a tourney at a new ballfield. It's bliss. Oh- and don't forget the sunscreen. Ya know, the sunscreen that always seems to cause a fight. I mean, my kids know I'm going to make them wear it, so why put up the fight... every.single.weekend.
Some of our favorite people in the world are friends that have become like family through the sporting world. They know our day to day life, what we order at a restaurant, and all our little idiosyncrasies that make the world go 'round. So many of my favorite memories were made on a field or at a team hotel where we weren't "really" watching our kids- but that could be a whole different blog.
But I'm tired. So tired. While I still love youth sports with my whole heart and soul, they are bringing a whole different "keeping up with the Joneses" aspect to our culture and it sucks. It sucks the life out of kids, parents, and bank accounts.
I remember the day so clearly. I was in California with my daughter who plays 10u softball. Yes, you read that correctly. We traveled across the freaking country for a softball tournament for our 11 year old daughter. Nuts, right? A little- though the memories were pretty priceless. Back to the story. That night, I was sitting on my hotel bed while my daughter was off running around the hotel with her teammates and I was scrolling through Facebook (as my hubby often says I do too often.) I came across a picture that stabbed me in my heart. Right in front of me, my entire family was throwing shells into the ocean on our annual family beach trip to honor my dad that had just passed away. My family beach week- the week I have gone to the beach with my entire big ass, loud family my entire life for... and here I was skipping it to watch my daughter play ball. What the hell was I thinking?
After that tournament, we hopped on a red eye and flew to Atlanta to see my son play in a baseball tournament. And after the 13 hour drive from hell home, I knew I had to hit the reset button.
How could some of the most priceless moments of watching my kids do what they love become so stressful. I'll tell you how... After a disappointing season for my son we were in panic mode. Does he need to be weightlifting? Does he need his eyes checked? Does he need a sports psychiatrist for when he's on the mound? Does he need yoga before games? You laugh, but these thoughts went through our head. Insane. I agree. So what did we do?
We pulled our daughter from the most amazing softball team ever and we signed our son up for football.
Sometimes in life, you just need to step away. Not because you don't love what you are doing, but because you just need fresh air. You need to come up for a breath. You need to NOT think about what is wrong and just have fun. Because at the end of the day, that is what we all do this for, right? Fun.
Our son's hitting coach once said, "What is your goal?" And then his advice was this: "Your goal shouldn't be to be the best ten year old or best 13 year old out there. Your goal should be to work hard and be good when you are a junior or senior or beyond and only if you love it."
The most refreshing thing ever came from a dad this fall at football practice. His son will be playing division 1 baseball in the spring- if he's not drafted... He said, "My son never played fall baseball. It was always football in the fall, baseball in the spring." Guess what, just like the "olden days" when I grew up, and I'd that kid is on to something.
So true. And after a step away from it all, I've realized my goal as a mother is to raise good kids. Good at heart. Kids that are good at what they want to do. And the funny thing is, the second we took a step back from it all, at night I'm hearing the ball pound the wall in the basement more than ever from our son hitting off a tee. I'm able to put dinner on the table because practices are closer. Ok, not every night, but a few. And this weekend, we will be loading up the car to drive to a field. To guest play with a team full of kids our son adores. And this Mama isn't going to stress, because I've got to learn it is what it is. And I'll promise you one thing... I won't forget the sunscreen.
