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
Girls.
I was supposed to have girls.
Dance class, cheerleading, paper dolls, and dress up were supposed to be on my weekend agenda. I saved my Cabbage Patch Kid, my wedding dress, my pom-poms and my Barbies for the future mini-mes I was going to produce.
Fast forward to reality: I am the mother to three boys.
There is not a pom-pom or a Barbie doll in sight (although one of them has adopted my Cabbage Patch Kid and uses her as a hostage in his emergency situation reenactments). But I have 13 balls (yes, I counted them) on my family room floor right now.
All hopes of cheer championships or co-mani-pedis are lost. Mostly I'm OK with that.
But, when my middle son came to me a few years ago in kindergarten and begged me to sign him up for tackle football, I was anti-that.
Like, hard pass on football.
I was so not cut out to be a football mom. They hit, tackle, and there is yelling, and nobody better not even think about hurting my baby!
Two years of despondent fall soccer followed before I finally gave in to his request and signed him up for tackle football at age 7. I was sick of arguing with him. He wasn't enjoying his fall sport at all, and he seemed ready.
Only, apparently, I wasn't.
I remember bursting into tears the first time I suited him up in his full uniform. I watched through my kitchen window while he ran around the yard that day, our high school football-playing neighbor bouncing the ball off of his helmet. When he pulled his helmet off later, his sweaty face had the hugest smile on it and I knew we were all in.
But our first few weeks of football season were the hardest of my sideline mom life.
My son is a natural athlete; sports come easily to him. He has a positive attitude. He's coachable. He's strong. He's fast, and he learns quickly. He's never met a sport he couldn't do. So he, and in turn I, were frustrated by his lack of playing time on the football field. He was developing. He could contribute. He is learning the game as quickly as everyone else. He is so cute in his uniform!
Normally, when frustrated, I would approach the coach and politely discuss the situation in a respectful manner. Only football was sort of different. I was apprehensive about what to say because, honestly, I figured I was probably missing something. To add to my anxiety, I sensed a "hey-little-lady" vibe when I attempted to engage the coach in discussion. In fairness to him though, I kind of deserved it because I didn't have the knowledge or the experience to have an intelligent, informed discussion with him about this game or my child's participation in it.
I knew that opening with, "But he's trying so hard!" wasn't going to work here. I didn't want to hurt him and his chances by being "that mom." But I also knew that I needed to be a bigger part of this equation.
My son over the course of that season fell in love with this game. I've never seen him, or any child, so passionate about something before. He immersed himself in learning the plays and growing his skills so that he could be a better player. Previously an extremely shy child, he began to find his voice and his fire on that football field. His behavior at home improved. His school work got better. He had friends that he couldn't stop talking about. And joy, so much joy.
It was inspiring. And, as an involved parent who likes to contribute and support the activities and organizations my kids are a part of, I noted there was a missing piece in our football league: the mom voice.
Of course they were baking cupcakes, getting Band-Aids and tying shoelaces on the sideline. But everyone knows that moms are often the ones signing up kids for football, buying football gear and driving kids to football practice EVERY NIGHT OF THE WEEK. They're the ones organizing the fundraisers and purchasing the spirit wear and running the heck out of the concession stand. You can go to any youth football field on the planet and see it covered in moms as they support the efforts of the coaches.
And, oddly, many of them are silent supporters. At least that was the case in my league. But, it wasn't for lack of opinions. In fact, they had plenty to say. Countless times I would hear moms voice concerns for safety, a fairness and simple procedure. They would then follow it up with, "But, I don't want to say anything because, gosh, Jimmy barely plays as it is."
Personally, I don't talk about things I don't know about, so I educated myself on all things football -- youth football, high school football, college football and the pros. I became knowledgeable about our league, our organization, the rules we follow and the people in charge. Then I decided to take on the challenge of youth football safety. I made it my goal to be the most informed football safety expert on that field, so that I would have more to offer than just cupcakes. My voice would be one that people wanted, even needed, to hear.
I now serve on the committee of my sons' (I have two of them in the league now) football league as a parent advocate and safety advisor. Moms (and dads, too) seek me out to express concerns, to share insights and to give praise to a league that has grown leaps and bounds during the past three years. My son's passion for this game ignited a passion in me that I didn't even know was there, and I love being able to help keep youth players safe and involved in a sport that gives them so much.
It may be a far cry of the dance classes and tea parties I envisioned myself at, but I think it's the perfect place for me to be. And, I treat myself to a solo mani-pedi day a few times a year to make it all worth it.
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.