Just Say No to M.U.G.S.

I find moms intimidating.  Especially in large numbers.  Like when they are supporting their daughters’ sports teams.

All of these years I’ve been preaching to my students about not caving in to peer pressure during their teens, and it turns out that adolescence is merely a brief introduction to the angst you will experience as the mother of a female involved in athletics.

I sang in the choir when I was growing up.  My mother’s only responsibility was picking me up on time after school from rehearsal or performances.  And her success record in that department was only about 50%.

So, I thought I was doing pretty good when I started shuttling my daughter to and from her swim practices three times a week in a timely manner.  Sometimes, I even go above and beyond and actually stay to watch the practice.

It is becoming more obvious each month that my participation would register about .01 on the Richter Scale of Supportive Moms.

On competition days, when all of the other moms wear the same blinged-out t-shirts, loudly proclaiming the name of the team, I shamefully wear a non-denominational blouse whose only writing can be found on a small tag in the lining that says, “Hand Wash Only.”

When all of the other moms wear 20 inch photo buttons on their chests of their daughters’ smiling faces, with ribbons trailing from the bottom, I forget my button at home, and hope that I will not have to admit to anyone that I am not even certain of its current location – which means that I could have used it as a coaster, the bulldog could have eaten it, or it might have been thrown into the box labelled “Miscellaneous Christmas Decorations that are not Ornaments, Candles or Nativity Sets or That We Left on the Shelf Until February Because We Forgot About Them and We Never Dust.”

When all of the other moms get together and plan yet another party to celebrate Winter or Groundhog Day or Surviving Two Whole Weeks Without a Party, I am the only one who meekly says, “Um, is this really necessary?”

When all of the other moms help their children find the miscellaneous pieces of clothing that they shed all over the natatorium throughout the day, I am the one who shrugs and says to my kid, “Well, you wore it here, so it has to be somewhere.”

When all of the other moms stand by with towels for their shivering daughters in between competitions, I am the one whose daughter walks up, turns to the person to my side, and says, “Daddy, can you hold my towel for me?”

Some day, the other moms are going to have one of those meetings that I never attend, and they are going to kick me out of the ‘hood.  The Mother Hood.

I’m going to stand strong, though.  You don’t have to join the Mothers with Unlimited Gem-stoned Shirts to prove your love to your kid.

Just get her an iPhone, and she’ll get the message.

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Posted on January 29, 2013, in Children, Dimples, Family, Humor, Parenting and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 27 Comments.

  1. Haha! I feel the same way, but our kids know we love them (as we shower them with Apple products)!

  2. Interesting! I could not help but laugh, laugh, laugh…! I could feel your story like I was part of it. By the way, a mother’s love for her daughter is not only seen in cheerleading! That’s the show-off part. I’m still laughing! 🙂
    I hope your daughter is getting her priorities right?

  3. Amen! Stay strong sister- don’t give in to that codependent nonsense!

  4. Blinged out t-shirts? How terrifying … and given that Bubba is only two this seems to be stretched out ahead of me!

  5. Haha, it’s so true. Those are the moms we love to hate.

  6. “The bigger the button with the kid’s face, the more misdirected the parent” I always say.

    Always being just now.

  7. Oh I am so with you. With 3 kids having played sports for about 17 years now, I have encountered all those moms. I’ve encountered everything from hockey moms to cheer moms. I was horrified to see the cheer moms dressed like their daughters in colorful print lounge pants, team t-shirt, and same curly top ponytail with ribbon. Yes 40 yr old women with pageant hair. Thanks, I prefer to be the mom with dignity and low key participation.

    Did you happen to read my latest blog? It’s about how it’s not 1979 anymore and too bad we can’t send our kids to the store for smokes and beer. 🙂

  8. Dimples loves you more than anyone else…..so be you..not a copy of another Mom !

  9. “…kick me out of the ‘hood. The Mother Hood.” – LOL!

    Don’t worry, there will always be somebody who makes you feel inadequate, no matter how competent you are. I don’t have kids, so I admire you wholeheartedly for just being able to get through the day without eating your offspring. If you actually manage to get them to school/hobbies/whatever into the bargain, you’re bucking for sainthood. 🙂

    • You are right. I felt inadequate even before I had my daughter to reinforce it. Do other people feel inadequate, too? Sometimes I think I’m the only one…

      • I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody who hasn’t felt inadequate at one point or another. The sad part is, the ones who feel it most strongly are often those who are truly admirable. Meanwhile, the losers sit around feeling complacent. What’s wrong with this picture?

  10. so happy to hear i am not the only intimidated one. it’s valentines for me now. cheesus. do i have to suffer one more year of being like the ONLY freaking mom in the whole of san antonio who sends store bought valentines with my kids?

  11. I KNEW I liked you!!! I’d be right there with you – the “un-Mom” of the bunch. Hey, we know we’re moms…we have the stretch marks to prove it.

  12. I say, if Cap’n Firepants is going to hold the towel, let him wear the swim-mom bling too!

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