NFL Evolution will feature a guest columnist every Tuesday, each with a different viewpoint of player health and safety from the youth level to pro football.
By Amanda Rodriguez, NFL Evolution columnist
I gave up my teaching career in 2005 when I learned I was expecting our second son.
I had always hoped to be able to stay home with my children, but trying to pay for childcare for an infant and a preschooler (and then a toddler, an infant, and a preschooler) on my teaching salary made doing so more of a smart decision than a desire.
We tried though. After investing the money, time and effort in a graduate degree, I felt like a successful career was my reward for all of that. Turns out, no matter how you slice it, me as a full time elementary school teacher was more of a worrisome waste of time than a smart financial investment.
Ten years later, I think it was the best forced decision I've ever made.
I've loved having the opportunity to be home full time with my sons. Never once have I regretted my decision or missed out on having a traditional career. In fact, since then, I've launched two successful businesses of my own and been available to be involved in aspects of their daily lives I otherwise would've delegated to caretakers.
I love that I am here in the mornings when they wake up. I am available in case they get ill at school. I can run after them when they walk out and forget their lunches. I can go on field trips, attend assemblies and performances, and greet them at the door when they come home.
And it's not just my own children who benefit; my flexible schedule allows me to devote time to the entire school community. I'm on the board of two PTAs, I help out in the classroom, and I use my knowledge and skills as an educator to support the missions of their schools.
As they've aged and become more involved in athletics, I am available to help in those areas too. I drive them (and many of their friends) to practice every night of the week. I am on the football league's board, I am a team mom for multiple sports, I manage the basketball team, I help out with fundraisers, sling hotdogs at concession stands, apply Band-Aids to booboos and hold on to lost teeth (yes, this has happened). I pat backs, I slap fives, I cheer hard and I sit on the sidelines of almost every single practice and game for my children, and yours.
I am what most of you would call an involved parent.
Recently, as I handed out snacks and drinks on the sidelines of yet another sport, I overheard some other moms weighing in on the drop-and-go-moms. You know the ones that roll up to the field, toss a kid and his gear out, and speed back down the driveway before the first whistle has even blown. These moms were griping about how it wasn't fair that they "had to sit here" while other moms got to run off and "do what they want". They made snarky comments about how practice isn't a "baby sitting service" and then went on to complain extensively about all of the things that they do as "involved parents" that none of "those parents" do because they're not.
It wasn't the first time I've heard this particular complaint, in fact, if I'm honest, I've probably said some of those things myself. But recently, after having to leave a child somewhere in order to pick up and drop off two others, only to return to find him sitting lonely on the field because practice had ended early, I gained a new perspective for the drop-and-go lifestyle and overhearing this conversation just rubbed me the wrong way.
First of all, volunteering is not a chore or a competition, it's a privilege. Those who are fortunate to have the time and ability to help their children and their teams achieve their goals should be there because they want to be, not because they think they need to in order to win some nonexistent mom of the year award.
Secondly, when it comes right down to it, none of us really know what that mom is dealing with. Maybe she has a sick parent, or an ill child at home. Maybe her spouse is deployed, or working overtime or just kind of a jerk. Maybe she wants to sit on the sidelines chatting it up with the other moms and maybe she doesn't. Or worse, maybe she just can't.
Don't get me wrong, I get it. Totally.
I'm that mom too. The one always being asked to help out, because I'm always willing and available to do so. I'm that mom the other moms call on to pick up or drop off or keep an eye on their kid somewhere because they know I will be there even when they can't. In fact, I've even moaned to my husband about how other people seem to think "work from home" is the same thing as just at home. Only, no, because, jeez, I'm working, not scrapbooking all day.
But then I realized that I'm actually kind of lucky. Because I get to be there to drive my kids (and their friends) places. I get to rub their backs when they lose and fist bump them when they win. I get to enjoy a piece of their lives that other parents maybe don't.
This is a gift. One that soon, no matter my job status or my intimate knowledge of the best way to create a walking taco, won't be required or desired. (They don't have team moms in college, do they?)
My position as "involved mom" gives me a lot of things, but what it doesn't give is the authority to judge the involvedness of other parents. I don't get to look down upon them for their lack of ability or desire to participate. And, really, I don't even get to decide what counts as participation.
Maybe "those parents" are at home every evening listening to their child's tales from the field and baking cookies to send in for birthdays. They're probably still making sure that the uniform is washed and dried and organized for the game Saturday morning. They probably get up and kiss them goodbye, and wish them luck, and get choked up because it's playoffs and they still can't be there because they had to pick up an extra shift. And, maybe they ask their friend to take photos and text them updates so they can keep up with the game between passing meds to patients on their unit.
Because that's what I do as an involved parent, and it counts even when you can't see it.
I love when other moms come up and thank me for the things that I do for their kids; the obvious things that everyone sees. I appreciate that they notice, and I feel good because they care. And, real talk, I will probably give their kid an extra cookie next time I bake a batch for the team.
But it's not just about me. And my job isn't the most important.
You don't have to be the one on the sidelines passing water and chatting up the coach. You don't have to bake cookies and sew ripped jerseys and spend every weekend killing yourself at the concession stand for your job to count.
All you have to be is there, on the field or away from it, supporting your child.
Amanda Rodriguez is a humor and lifestyle blogger at DudeMom.com. In addition to having a loose grip on reality, Amanda enjoys traveling to far off lands (or, not so far off lands) with her family and cheering herself hoarse on the sidelines of her sons' games. They will thank her one day, she's certain.
