We’ve all heard professional athletes express their admiration for their mothers, proudly stating, “My mom is incredible. She never missed a [insert sport: soccer match, basketball game, etc.].” While many may find this charming, my immediate reaction is: Really? How is that even feasible? I can only assume these mothers had no job, no other children, and never faced any of life’s usual demands like illness, social obligations, or even the occasional dentist appointment.
The idea of never missing a game sounds delightful in principle, but is it truly the benchmark for exceptional parenting? I have three kids, all of whom are heavily involved in various sports and activities. Even with my supportive husband, we are still a team of two, and as we quickly learned with baby No. 3, we have officially become outnumbered.
Most weekends, our discussions revolve around coordinating the logistics of at least half a dozen activities. Planning a weekend feels akin to organizing a high-stakes event, and that’s just the start! I recently transitioned from working full-time, which gives me a bit more flexibility for shuttling kids during the week. However, I still heavily rely on my husband, friends, and neighbors. There’s simply no way I could manage this solo, and unless I invent a time machine, attending every game is out of the question.
When I was employed, I was fortunate to work for a company that prioritized work-life balance, allowing me flexibility. I worked diligently to build a reputation for delivering results, which paved the way for a more flexible schedule once I had children. But not everyone is afforded that luxury. Many people juggle hourly jobs or are in roles with rigid schedules. Imagine the absurdity of calling a hospital to say, “Sorry, Dr. Jones, but I need to reschedule the surgery because my daughter has a soccer game.”
Mom guilt is something many of us experience, yet I felt somewhat at peace with my situation. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked for us. I realize now, however, that I wasn’t as present as I thought. While I believed I was balancing everything well, I often found myself distracted by work, even during my kids’ events. I recall attending a baseball game while pacing behind the bleachers on a conference call, missing the cheers for my son’s impressive play. Sure, I was physically there, but was I truly engaged?
No parent wants their child to feel unsupported, but in our kids’ sports, the parents have formed a community. If my husband or I can’t attend, there are other caring parents cheering for our children, celebrating their victories and comforting them in defeat.
Sports teach children invaluable lessons: teamwork, perseverance, and how to handle disappointment. They learn to work together towards a common goal and grow from their mistakes—skills that will benefit them far beyond childhood. I appreciate the role sports play in our family life, even if they do dominate most weekends.
Our responsibilities as parents extend beyond the sidelines. We aim to raise kind, safe, and healthy children. I hope my kids know we are always in their corner, even if daily battles over bedtime or screen time make me seem like the enemy. Attending every single sporting event is not a requirement of parenting.
I once read that the best thing to say to your child after a game—regardless of the outcome—is simply, “I love to watch you play.” Our job is to support, not critique. I’ve embraced this sentiment and tell my kids often. I genuinely enjoy watching them compete, but I can’t guarantee I’ll be there every time.
For further insight on navigating the challenges of parenthood, check out this other blog post. And if you’re interested in learning about home insemination, CryoBaby offers a great resource on the topic, as does UCSF’s guide on IVF.
In summary, while it may seem ideal for parents to attend every game, the reality of modern parenting is much more complex. Balancing work, family, and personal life is a challenge, and it’s essential to focus on quality over quantity. Supporting our kids in their activities is what truly matters, even if we can’t be there all the time.