You’ve seen them — the families whose minivans are decked out with team stickers, rushing from one game to the next, often traveling long distances just to support their child’s latest athletic endeavor. These families are often caught up in a whirlwind of practices, games, and fundraising activities, from selling cookie dough to manning concession stands. Between the juggling of school, homework, and practices, family dinners become a distant memory, with everyone eating at different times, if at all.
I refuse to let that be our story.
Looking at these families, I realize that this isn’t the lifestyle I want for myself or my kids. Let’s be honest: None of my children are destined for the Olympics. They are not future sports legends like Michael Phelps or Tim Tebow. Therefore, sacrificing our family time for the sake of an organized sport just doesn’t make sense. That’s why my children have never participated in organized sports, and that decision will remain unchanged.
Above all, I cherish the freedom of our evenings and weekends. When a local Tall Ships event comes to town, we can spontaneously decide to go, without waiting for a soccer game or baseball practice to wrap up. Early mornings are optional, and we can enjoy our weekends without worrying about how sports might interfere with our church activities or brunch dates with friends who feel like family.
When my partner comes home, there’s no need to rush to a fast-food joint after practice. Instead, we can relax, enjoy dinner, and embark on adventures like toad hunting by the river as night falls. My other children aren’t tethered to a sibling’s athletic commitments, allowing us to spend quality time together without being sidelined at practice.
I understand that organized sports do offer valuable life lessons, such as teamwork, resilience, and camaraderie. However, my kids are not couch potatoes. They engage in various outdoor activities; just last month, they hiked a mountain, with even our youngest navigating it all on her own. We venture into the woods nearby, eagerly searching for alligators and playfully naming fallen branches “logagators.”
They also enjoy kayaking. My 5-year-old has his own kayak and confidently steers it on a calm lake, while my 7-year-old eagerly seeks out Class II rapids. Our outings often include friends, fostering social interactions amidst our adventures.
In addition, they take sports lessons, such as figure skating, taught by a former Olympian who values a relaxed environment. There’s no pressure to compete, and they’re currently in the phase of simply learning to skate without falling. They enjoy an hour of skating each week, and I join them on the ice, which makes it a fun family experience. We’re not worried about traveling to competitions or dealing with the emotional fallout of not meeting expectations.
The most important aspect of our activities is that we do them together. Our family time is precious, and we prioritize being together over the competitive nature of organized sports. You can call us homebodies or clingy, but we choose to enjoy our limited time as a family, which means making sacrifices — and organized sports are the big one.
Do I feel a twinge of sadness knowing my kids won’t experience T-ball or that I won’t have adorable photos of them styled like baseball cards? Certainly. I see pictures of toddlers chasing a soccer ball in organized settings, and I can’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia. It’s undeniably cute.
But we’ve made our choice, and we’re committed to it.
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In summary, while organized sports have their advantages, my family has chosen a different path that prioritizes togetherness, spontaneity, and the joy of shared experiences over structured athletic commitments.