A Tale of How this Mom Dropped the Ball

Sometimes, one decision can feel like the end of the world—especially when you’re a parent trying to juggle it all.

My boy loves soccer—like any other kid his age. But for him, it’s more than just a game. Last summer, he trained hard to move up from recreational soccer to join the competitive team. I watched him practice for hours, rain or shine, dedicated and focused on his goal.

The selection process from recreational to competitive would take place within the first two weeks of the season. Every practice in those two weeks was crucial—a detail this mom wasn’t fully aware of. And here’s how I, inadvertently, made a big judgment error.

That Thursday, the one practice where players would be evaluated for the competitive team, my son’s school had an important event 20 minutes away from the soccer field, ending at the same time his practice was set to begin.

Not knowing the importance of that particular practice, I made the decision that the school event was more important than “just another soccer practice” and decided to take him there. My son insisted that I pick him up half an hour early to make it to practice—but he didn’t explain just how critical it was - thinking I already knew.

I didn’t. He missed that practice and, with it, the selection he had worked so hard for.

My heart sank when he cried, “How could you not be here earlier?” I realized I had dropped the ball, and the weight of my mistake hit me like a ton of bricks.

As any parent knows, mistakes like this aren’t easily forgotten—and I knew I’d be hearing about this one for a while. Apparently, I had assumed my ‘soccer mom’ title didn’t require learning the competitive team’s handbook by heart—rookie mistake.

But I’m now a mom on a mission! I wasn’t about to throw in the towel that easily. Giving up is not in my playbook! My son gave me that look—the team was already set. But I was determined.

The next day, I tried reaching out to the coaches through the app they’d provided for parents. To no avail. Apparently, that app isn’t WhatsApp, and people don’t check it often.

So, I decided to go in person. At the next practice, I asked my son to point out the coaches of the competitive team. Parents weren’t allowed on the field, but I attempted to go anyway, only to be politely stopped by a man greeting the players.

"How can I help you, ma'am?" he asked.

“I just need five minutes with the coach,” I said, pointing to one of the competitive team coaches.

“You’ll need to wait until after practice. I can’t pull them off the field right now.”

Not wanting to wait yet another week for my son’s evaluation, I tried to insist, only to be told again to wait until after the practice.

So, I explained to the gentleman why I needed to talk to the coach and how my son had missed the evaluation due to a scheduling conflict.

To which he replied “If this is about the evaluation and selection for the competitive team, ma’am, you don’t need to talk to the coaches—you talk to me. I’m the one responsible for that. Let me see what I can do. I’ll evaluate your son in the next two practices and let you know.”

I didn’t, well, nearly hugged him!

Thanks to his understanding, my son got a delayed evaluation, was selected, and is now proudly part of the competitive team.

Why am I sharing this?

Because as parents, we've all been there. We’re juggling schedules, obligations, and expectations, and sometimes, despite our best intentions, we drop the ball.

Parenthood comes with a constant, nagging guilt that we’re not doing enough for our kids or loved ones, and the pressure to be flawless can be overwhelming.

But here’s what I’ve learned: our kids don't need us to be perfect. They need us to show up, to fight for them when it matters, and to love them unconditionally—even when we make mistakes.

We’re trying our best with our perfectly imperfect selves, learning and growing alongside them with every misstep and triumph.

This time, my story had a happy ending. But life doesn’t always give us those. To all parents out there— Keep going; you’re doing an amazing job.

Oh, and one last thing—does anyone know if there’s an app that sends you an alert when this mom is about to make another questionable scheduling decision? Asking for a friend.