I’m a bad mother. Well I don’t think so, but you may after I fess up.
I am an Anti-Soccer Mom and against everything it stands for and represents. Don’t get me wrong, I love my two boys and would do anything for them, but I think I tend to dance – or kick – to the beat of a different drummer.
Let’s start with Wikipedia’s definition for a Soccer Mom:
“A middle-class suburban woman who spends a significant amount of time transporting her school-age children to their sporting events or other activities. She is sometimes portrayed in the media as busy or overburdened and driving a minivan. She is also portrayed as putting the interests of her family, especially her children, ahead of her own.”
Sounds reasonably accurate, right? Ahhhh, but I can’t stand it! This goes against how I want to raise my kids and the list of things I DON’T do:
– mini-vans
– magnetic soccer balls on the back of my car
– car pools
– play dates
– taxi services for my kids and their friends
– post-game snacks for the team (why do kids need a snack after a 45 minute game anyway? Just bring some water and be done!)
– cupcakes and parties for their classrooms
– homework checking (unless they ask)
– traveling sports teams
– coaching (i.e., yelling) from the sidelines
– birthday parties where parents have to stay
– signing them up for more than one sport or activity per season
– forcing my kids to dress up, go to church or attend adult gatherings
– gathering with other moms to compare notes about our kids and all things related
Phew. I feel so much better now that I got all that off my flat chest. Now before you start emailing me nasty notes telling me I’m a disgrace to motherhood-kind, let me explain.
I am not stereotyping or suggesting that Soccer Moms do all of these things. What I am suggesting is that I do none of these things – for a good reason. It’s not because I’d rather be running than taxiing my kids around (OK, maybe that’s part of it). It’s because I want to raise kids who are independent, strong, able to make their own decisions, choose their own beliefs and feel capable of achieving just about anything. I want them to learn when they have a project due at school, they need to hop on their bikes and ride to the library to do research. I want them to know it’s OK to practice whatever religion they feel drawn to, wear whatever clothes make them comfortable, and do whatever sports or hobbies they are excited about.
I do not want to spend our precious years together forcing them to participate in activities I want them in, stressing out about having to be somewhere every night for practice, meetings or rehearsals, or making them dress, look or act a certain way. I do not compete with other kids or moms and don’t want them to compare themselves either.
In addition, I want my kids to see that I have my own life, passions and goals. I want them to see me love my work, train for and cross the finish line of many marathons and triathlons, have friends that I go out with and a husband who I spend time with — alone. I want them to see me accomplish many things in life – just like they do.
So instead of living the Soccer Mom life and trying to be all things to my kids (which is impossible, you know), I have realized they are just fine as is. It’s OK to let go and let them be themselves. And it’s actually better for them, us and the world to raise a generation of independent thinkers and doers where women are not typecast into certain roles anymore.
Because I enjoy the life of an Anti-Soccer Mom, here are the things I have more time for and DO with my kids:
– eat family dinners just about every night
– relax in the rocking chairs on the front porch to just talk
– snuggle in our king size bed at the end of the day to watch a movie or laugh about our individual quirkiness
– be their number one fan at any sport of their choice and ask that they do the same for me
– talk about the world and how to deal with others
– hug them daily
– encourage them to get anything and everything they want out of life
Being a Soccer Mom is not for me. If it works for you, that’s excellent. Either way, here is what’s important: we should not live for our kids; we should live with them.
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