Sports Mom Syndrome

I'm a sports mom. A football mom to be exact. Both of my boys play football every spring and fall and yes, I do make it to most of their games. I say most because fairly often their games will be at the same time and Mark and I have to split up. Sometimes I make the whole family miss and we go out of town or off to do something important to ME. I do cheer for them, support them and want them to do well.

I say that all to point out that yes, I do understand the profound importance of sports in kids' lives. I really, really do. I don't personally enjoy any sports, but I've seen my children grow and learn from their sports involvement. (Before going football-only they've tried out several other sports). I've seen their sports have a positive impact on their behavior, their schoolwork, their concentration levels and much, much more.

However, I think as a Mom (or Dad, but I'm just writing as a Mom here) it's profoundly important, especially in the area of sports to separate yourself from your child's accomplishments. Kids' sports aren't about Mom and Dad. Kids' sports are and should be about the kid. Partly about health, wellness and ensuring an active lifestyle. Partly about learning to accept defeat. And about learning to win graciously. Definitely about learning to follow the rules and work as a team.

Kids' sports should NOT be about making Mom happy. Yes, I love to see my kids win. And I am sad when they lose. But I'm happy or sad because THEY are happy or sad. Not because their winning or losing a football game defines who I am.

I say all this because today I overheard the following conversation. At the football playoffs this morning, a woman I'll call Ann (and if you read this post, I love you dear, so I hope you're paying attention), was telling the other parents that today is her and her husband's anniversary and "what better gift could I get than B coming home with that huge trophy for my living room." Seriously? Because, call me a bad mom, but for my anniversary I'm hoping more for something along the lines of a a fancy dinner, some flowers or maybe even some jewelry or some new electronic gadget I'm wanting. If I'm lucky I'll get a weekend away with Mark and no kids. It has never ever occurred to me that my kid winning a football game could be considered a "gift" for me.

"Ann's" hubby is the coach and since they lost, I'm wondering how things went at their house this evening. Mark is thinking not well, given the way she was screaming at him after the game about missing some bad calls and whatnot.

As for me, I said "Sorry you lost, Superman. You played great." Then went on about my day. And I'm OK with that. As I told a friend recently, I know I'm a bad "football mom," but I think I'm a good mom. Sometimes I wonder if they two are compatible.