Good Job, Jimmy!

We’re in the thick of it, people. We’re currently in a place that we’ve watched many parents go before us, wondering how the hell they made it out alive and when the heck they ate, showered, or found a tiny speck of time to themselves. I’m talking tryouts, practices, dance competitions, auditions, games, playoffs, and the all-out debauchery that is youth sports and the blissful, yet crazy phase of our lives that consumes the majority of our nights and weekends.

Now, let me break it down for you, just for funsies: we eat dinner in the car more than at our kitchen table, have loads of extra clothes options tucked in our trunks for any weather that Minnesota decides to surprise us with on game days, and an endless coffee IV that is our literal lifeline to keeping these exhausted eyeballs open and helping our kids remember all the shit they have to bring with them, so they don’t have to run extra laps or get benched in the next game.

Now, don’t mishear me—there is literally nowhere else I would want to be than sitting on the sidelines, cheering my kids on, and watching them do something they love. It is incredibly important to me that I am there, and I also happen to believe that finding humor in situations helps me cope with life, so let’s have some laughs at my expense here, shall we?

Sometimes, I find myself reminiscing about when my kids were babies and how “fun” that stage was. The first words, the snuggles, and the moments my heart wanted to explode while holding them in my arms wishing time would slow down. I will also never forget the ridiculous amount of supplies we used to cram in the car when we took a trip out of state to see family or just across town to check out a new park. We joked about bringing “everything but the kitchen sink” because we had to prepare for every possible scenario. Bottles, diapers, a stroller, multiple fresh outfits, poop bags, wipes, snacks, a breast pump, pack-and-play, toys, favorite blankies, and, well, you get the gist…the list goes on and on.

I’m not gonna lie - I don’t miss having to pack all that shit up, and although a little sad about the fact that not needing all that crap meant my kids were growing up, I was pretty excited about that annoyingly overwhelming phase being over. And I bet you know exactly where I’m going with this; the kitchen sink packing insanity is back…and with a damn vengeance. Now we have a big-ass cart to tote around our chairs, sports luggage, and miscellaneous supplies that also doubles as a hot dog stand or napping station. Then comes the whole choosing what to pack within that cart. Well, for starters, you damn well better pack your sunscreen and spray fan because the forecast calls for an abundance of sunshine, but it’s also probably going to rain out of left field, so you’ll also need to ensure your umbrellas and ponchos are in the mix in case mother nature decides to make things interesting. Oh, and don’t forget to pack enough food for at least three meals for the entire family in case everyone is starving and the only option for eating out is a small town Speedway gas station the size of an outhouse. And by the way, they only take cash.

Would I change it for the world? Hell no. But is it also a bit overwhelming and slightly insane? Hell yes.

Now, in the past few years, our daughter jumped headfirst into the creative world of the arts and loves spending her days dancing, singing, and being on stage. It’s a beautiful space that embraces her quirkiness, instills the value of hard work, teaches her how to be dependable and work as a team, and so much more. She has made friends who are similar to her and who don’t run away when she gets dysregulated. It’s so fun to watch her do something she is so passionate about. I can literally FEEL her heart and passion when she dances, sings, or is on stage. It’s palpable. And so, so beautiful to witness. After a few years under our belt, I finally have a pretty firm grasp of the creative arts world and have also embraced my newfound creativity as a result of being inspired by so many wonderful human beings in this space.

Simply put, I understand the arts and unapologetically live in a world where I’m completely comfortable making up random songs and singing them out loud in public, pretending to have a British accent as I accept my coffee at the drive-thru or sashaying down the aisles at Target as I imagine myself starring as the lead in a Broadway musical. I’m weird. I’m quirky. I’m loud, and I’m animated. The arts are a place where I can be all of those things, and although some of the rules can change, the majority of it stays the same, and more or less, I just get it.

Now, my son, on the other hand, plays football, basketball, and baseball. I’m continually in awe of his endless supply of energy and sports knowledge. I love watching him play. He brings his entire heart to every game he plays, and he sees so much of the world through a sports lens. Many of his past teachers have used all sorts of sports analogies to help him connect various school concepts, which always seem to speak right to his soul. He is learning about working as a team, how to show up as a good teammate, mental toughness, and a laundry list of other things that are helping shape him as a human. Throughout years of football, basketball, and baseball, I’ve also bonded with some amazing fellow mamas who have come with their unique set of skills when it comes to organized sports.

(PS: this is a public blog, so the humans below do actually exist, but I’ve changed their names so they don’t become Instagram famous overnight without giving proper permission🙃. Bahahaha! Kidding. I have like 2 followers.)

First, there’s Laura, with an impressive vault of random sports knowledge stemming from her years as a former collegiate athlete who can tell you every single stat in the district from the past five years…and a pretty freaking close estimate of next week’s game outcomes. (I secretly hope that she gambles on games because I know it’s probably frowned upon - or illegal - or both - but I bet she’d make a killing if she did.)

Then we have Linda, who has a perfect chair setup that looks like she took it out of a Martha Stewart magazine, complete with a bougie-ass tent, outdoor rug, and solar-powered fan.

Tenley always brings the best snacks, which are almost always in the shape of whatever sports season we’re in or inside her famous “snackleboxes” that make all the other moms instantly feel inept as they pull yet another squished granola bar from the bottom of their purse.

Janine is the team manager, otherwise known as the magical unicorn, that holds everything together and tells everyone where they are supposed to be and at what time. You’d think being a magical unicorn would be the most straightforward job - stand there, look pretty, and elegantly gallop off into the sunset - but not this one…this magical unicorn is quite literally the super glue that holds the team together and keeps the entire team, coaches, and parents in the loop about ALL the things, so you don’t wind up as the shitty parent who forgets to pick your kid up from practice or told them to wear the wrong color jersey.

And then there’s me. What’s my unique skillset, you ask? And what do I bring to the table?

I’m so glad you asked. I was blessed with some powerful skills, mainly the skill of having zero clue of what the hell is going on about 98% of the time. There are so many freaking rules that differ with every sport he plays…and, well, I don’t have the longest attention span in the world either. I mean, I know the basics, but I also tend to yell, “Good job, Jimmy,” when it was Daniel who made the catch or accidentally let an f-bomb fly when there’s a small child nearby. I’ve been known not to recognize my own kid up at bat because he has the same stature as multiple other kids, or the sparkly squirrels have packed my schedule full of taking in the scenery, pondering what I’m going to make for dinner, or telling somebody about my laundry list of parenting fails for the day.

Then, there’s the fact that I almost always fly in sideways to every game. As a creative dreamer with a knack for sparkly things and a raging case of ADHD, paired with the fact that I consistently underestimate the amount of time that it will take to drive, park, and make it to our destination, it’s safe to say that I really, REALLY suck in getting my ass in the chair prior to kickoff, tipoff, or whatever other words describe the start of a sports game. Case in point: last summer, while running late yet again, I backed up into a PARKED CAR in the parking lot at our local baseball fields because I was rushing. I also have crappy depth perception (true story).

But all in all, I gotta say - I’m really, really thankful that none of us mamas are the same on any team my son plays on. We all bring something different to the table, and somehow it just works.

So, if you’re curious to know what the score is or how much time is left in the game, it’s probably best to ask someone else because I will have zero clue. I’m starting to realize the more I say that, the more comfortable I am with the fact that I don’t know and can’t know everything there is to know about everything…and I also can’t be good at everything. And newsflash - neither does anyone else.

But I’ll tell you what…if you need a snack, water, band-aid, nail file, hand sanitizer, a hug, someone to listen to your struggles, or an animated weirdo to help entertain your littles, I’ve got you more than covered. I know my strengths…, and also, I’m really sorry about calling your kid the wrong name. I mean, if the shoe fits, you might as well wear it.

This phase of parenting is a complete shit show, but it’s our shit show, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Except Vegas. Or Hawaii. But that’s definitely it.