May 10, 2023
“Hey, Alexa. What’s today’s weather like? Will I always feel overwhelmed by spring sports?”
“It’s currently 47 degrees with sunny skies. Expect a high of 93 with occasional rain, lightning, and winds that could rival a tornado. Be ready for rain to transform into snow as the temperature drops by 50 degrees in 20 minutes. Forget about dread; it’s a perfect spring day for the 17 Little League games you’ll be attending.”
I know, it’s a bit unsettling how a device can predict the exact number of baseball games my kids have on any given day. But, honestly, the weather forecast is spot on.
I grew up with sports; they were a crucial part of my childhood and have remained a source of comfort and camaraderie into my adult life. I thrived on being part of a team, thanks to my time in youth sports.
As a child, I simply showed up. I’m sure my mother didn’t prepare me for game day or practices the way I do for my kids now. I recall shivering during early track practices because I didn’t wear enough layers and struggling with soggy shoes as I sprinted to left field during chilly April games. But I made it through. So why do spring sports feel so much more intense and like a massive chore compared to my carefree days of munching on Swedish Fish and Fun Dip for dinner? Where did the fun go?
Perhaps it’s the impact of climate change on weather patterns, or maybe it’s because I was the only athlete in the family—now all three of my kids are signed up for sports year-round. Organized sports seem to have become overly structured, or maybe I just take on too much for my children.
I don’t know how others navigate spring sports, but I find myself hauling a wagon filled with snacks, blankets, and an emergency kit. And let’s not forget the anxiety, resentment, and simmering frustration that comes along for the ride.
Because, honestly, if it’s not unpredictable weather, it’s the sheer amount of time spent at the fields. Practices often kick off just before dinner—if not right at dinnertime—and last until my kids hit their emotional limits. They wave goodbye to their coach, give high-fives to friends, and then completely melt down once they’re in the car. Of course, they’re starving. I spent an hour preparing sandwiches, cutting fruits and veggies, and packing “fun treats” like juice boxes, yet they barely touch any of it because they filled up on gum and a few crackers from a friend.
They hardly even noticed the blanket I brought for them to sit on, too busy racing over to the park’s teeter-totter or jungle gym. That blanket is waterproof, kids, to protect you from the dewy ground, but whatever. Next time, I’ll definitely forget it again. Because the one time I do will be the day they notice all the nice things I do for them, and I just can’t handle any more intense emotions. They’re not just hungry; they’re also utterly exhausted.
We get home late multiple nights a week, pushing back bedtimes because my kids need to unwind after running around with friends for two hours. They need another snack because the earlier one was just an appetizer. Homework awaits, and they need time to decompress. These late nights lead to morning crankiness and regret. Suddenly, they despise baseball, clothes, food, and school, and I question my decision to sign them up for sports.
Then I remind them it’s game day, and they’re allowed to wear their jerseys to school. Suddenly, the energy shifts positively, but it’s far from balanced. The excitement returns, and I recommit to packing picnic dinners that probably won’t be eaten while dining under partly cloudy skies that could rain or snow at any moment.
And then they step onto the field. My little athletes look so adorable in their uniforms, their confidence fluctuating in the most heartwarming way. I and the other parents breathe a sigh of relief, admiring their cuteness. While we grumble about the chaos of getting to the field, we also snap a million photos, knowing that as long as our kids are happy, we are too.
I loved being part of a team. I cherished my time as an athlete, and I’m grateful that my kids are on this journey as well. Sports will teach them valuable life lessons—resilience, teamwork, and how to handle victories and defeats with grace. Right now, they’re mostly interested in the Double Bubble from the snack bar and socializing with friends, but I hope they stick with their sports long enough to appreciate these essential skills.
Otherwise, this whole spring sports ordeal is downright exhausting.
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Summary
Spring sports can feel overwhelming for parents managing schedules, snacks, and emotional meltdowns. While the nostalgia of childhood sports brings memories of carefree days, the reality is often a chaotic mix of practices, hunger, and exhaustion. Yet, the joy of watching kids grow and learn valuable life skills through sports makes it all worthwhile.
Keyphrase: Spring Sports Challenges
Tags: [“home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”]