I spend about a third of my life sleeping, another third pondering dinner options, and the final third cheering from the sidelines at my kids’ sports events—soccer, basketball, lacrosse, football, you name it. All this time spent on the field gives me a chance to engage in profound self-reflection—or at least it would, if I weren’t simultaneously devouring a pack of Sour Patch Kids. Seriously, where else can you indulge in candy as an adult without a side-eye?
I genuinely love witnessing my kids compete, or sit quietly on the bench, but let’s face it: after attending what feels like the 1,038th game of the year, maintaining focus can be a struggle. My mind tends to wander like this:
- Why are we always on the farthest field from the parking lot?
- I really should have remembered to bring a blanket. Oh, it’s in the car, but wait—the dog threw up on it. Should I grab it anyway? Gross, no way. Maybe if it gets too cold.
- This chair is so uncomfortable.
- Why do I always end up with the broken chair? I guess I’ll just sit here until everyone leaves. I swear my backside is touching the ground. My knees are practically on my chin. Just smile—nobody will notice.
- How old are those kids on the other team?
- They look huge. That one kid? No way he’s ten. Does he have a mustache? He looks old enough to drive. And pick up beer on the way home. Ha! I’m hilarious. I could really go for a beer, but I don’t even drink.
- I love this sport.
- Do I have cankles?
- Am I the only one still wearing capris? I need to go shopping. No one looks good in capris. Well, except for that mom over there. She probably does Pilates or barre.
- I wonder if there’s a bar nearby.
- How long did my son play?
- Three minutes? I should get an app to track playtime, but I never use those. Mmm… apps… like buffalo chicken dip. Or wait, not edamame—those are just trendy lima beans.
- Was that a raindrop?
- I think it was rain. I hope it’s rain.
- Wow, that guy is loud. What a jerk—oh, wait, that’s my husband. He’s not a jerk. I must be tired.
- Is that a bee? Is that a bee?!
- I can’t escape this chair! IS THAT A BEE?!
- It’s too chilly for spring.
- I could really use that blanket. I need to wash it. And do laundry. And empty the dishwasher. And clean out the closets. And tackle that mountain of papers on the kitchen table. We need a new kitchen table. Or maybe we should just move.
- Is that my son out there?
- What number is he again? Why is that other kid always playing? Ah, the coach’s son. He’s awful—wait, he just scored. Ball hog.
- Wow, I definitely missed a spot shaving—like, my entire left leg, and my right.
- Oh no, she’s coming over to talk to me.
- What’s her name? Whatshername… uh… look straight ahead.
- I like her hair.
- I hate my hair.
- Was that rain?
- What’s for dinner?
- I dread dinner prep. Do we even need to eat tonight?
- I need to use the bathroom, but it’s a long walk to those gross restrooms with no toilet paper or hand towels. Why are there always spiders? I can hold it. I’m stuck in this chair anyway. I can’t feel my legs.
- I can’t believe I forgot my fleece/hoodie/raincoat again.
- Go blue!
- Am I yelling too loudly? That was a bit much. I sounded like Rosie O’Donnell or Roseanne Barr.
- Is there a bar around here?
- What number is my son again?
- Do I really have to make dinner?
- How many times have we had pizza this week? We could have pizza again. Pizza isn’t so bad. It’s healthier than fried chicken, right?
- Did my child just score?
- Dang it, I missed it. I’ll tell him I saw it. Great job, buddy! Oops, don’t say “buddy.” Dude? No, don’t say dude.
- What inning is it? What quarter? What day is it? That didn’t look like a foul. Is that rain? I think I felt rain. Please let that be rain.
- Did we really drive two hours for this game?
- I hate this sport.
- I could go for a bite of that guy’s pretzel.
- Oops, did I say that out loud? Maybe he’s just looking at my cankles.
- What’s the score?
- I like her sunglasses. They make her look like Tina Fey. They’d probably make me look like Tina Belcher.
- Is that rain?
- That was totally out of bounds. What’s the score?
- She seems nice. Never mind, she’s a screamer.
- Is this game almost over?
- Where did I park? Where’s my other child? Where are you now that I need you? Where are you, where are you now? Great, now I have Justin Bieber stuck in my head.
- I could go for shrimp and linguine.
- Wow, how random. With a glass of wine… Now you’ve got my attention. Wasn’t that a movie? Who was in it? Bruce Willis? Where are you, Bruce?
- Did I even bring my other child?
- Where are you, where are you… Get out of my head, Justin. Do I hear thunder?
- I should take some photos.
- Darn, memory full. Delete, delete, delete… oh, cute! Delete, delete. What’s the score?
- Overtime? Oh no. Please, no.
- I really need to pee. Was that rain?
- Please, let that be rain.
This article was originally published on May 3, 2019.
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Summary:
Navigating the chaotic world of youth sports as a mom often leads to humorous and relatable thoughts. From the discomfort of uncomfortable chairs to concerns about dinner and the weather, the inner monologue of a sports mom is a whirlwind of distractions. Amidst the cheering and support for their kids, these moms grapple with everything from logistics to personal reflections, often wishing for rain to save them from another game.
Keyphrase: Sports Mom Thoughts
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