Over a year ago, I decided to test out “over-scheduling my kids” and put my kids in a variety of sports and activities. There was a lot of thought that went into this, and a method to the madness.
So, just as we were finishing a program at our church, spring sports began and we were doing it all. We had travel soccer, two little league teams, piano, and golf. What I didn’t know at the time of scheduling all of those activities was the insanity of the end of the year activities at school. My kids weren’t in school before 2020, and it took until about 2022 for the district my kids are in to really ramp up their activities again. With two school aged kids both in activities, we were running almost every night to something — some nights we had two or three activities to get to. My kids hopped off the bus and it was ready, set, GO!
I’ll be honest, I have very little memory of that time. I did have an infant and was up at night but I have very little memory of the actual grind of it all. But what I can remember is that we actually were ok during it. We were able to sustain it. For a short period.
Nothing got done. Papers in my house and the to-do list great to enormous stacks, but for a short period, we did sustain it.
That’s the thing about being parents. We keep going for our kids. No matter how exhausting, how frustrating, and how hard it gets, we just keep going. We know nothing else — and we have no other options. Except maybe to not schedule so many activities. But honestly, even just a few activities can have parents running ragged once you add in all the school events and the inevitable juggle of — illness.
But last spring, we had a schedule and we commitments — so off we went.
One thing I learned early on was to appreciate baseball in the spring. The first several games and practices for both boys were often cancelled. And when you think you have something scheduled but suddenly find out you have a free night — well that’s even better than not having anything scheduled at all.
I also learned, as a mom on maternity, who experienced it the first time when I barely knew anyone in my town, and the second time where I still didn’t have many friends, and for the third time, during a global pandemic in 2020, experiencing it with a “crew” felt like a gift.
What I can remember of that crazy busy time, was I LOVED being in the community.
Is anyone surprised?
My husband works long hours and being home can be really isolating. I live in a beautiful neighborhood but where people mostly stay inside or are dashing off to and fro themselves. There was rarely anyone to talk during those days that didn’t require a carseat or booster as we headed off to the next activity. But once we arrived, there was the promise of adult conversation. As we entered the community rec center, I ran into a variety of other parents and neighbors — there was a sense of community that I didn’t get being home. And as a person whose husband describes her as needing a village to thrive like a car needs 95 octane fuel to perform, I remember really thriving as a parent despite the early months being postpartum.
I saw the power of the village day in and day out. Dashing from here to there, my younger kids felt it, I know. There were a lot of transitions. And they had trouble shifting so much. Sleep wasn’t always prioritized. BUT I wasn’t alone in parenting. I remember the parents who offered to take my middle two boys to the playground so I could sit and hold my baby while I watched my oldest son play soccer. I remember the friends who held my baby as she cried and walked her back and forth along those sidelines. I remember them watching my kids while I went to the car to nurse my baby in the intimate setting I felt comfortable in. I remember the snacks, so many snacks, that came out for my kids when I had done my best to pack “all the things” but just didn’t have the extras. I remember the friends who ate pizza with us on the playground as we went from kindergarten concert to second grade soccer. I remember the car pools that saved me from piling all of my kids into the car. I remember young teenage kids holding my infant and staring at her like she was the most precious thing in the world — a feeling that stops you in the middle of a Tuesday evening of chaos.
I remember the sticky popsicles handed to my other kids as the team received them — affording my kids the feeling of inclusion in one plastic sleeve of frozen juice. I remember the text threads with advice on how to get dirt stains out of white baseball pants. I remember moms bringing their kids to their own cars and then coming back for me to help me get four kids through a busy parking lot safely who were melting down and refusing to walk. I remember my mom in the passenger seat many nights heading off to events with me when my husband couldn’t be there. It was all for one, and one for all.
I remember despite having an infant with three older boys and a husband who worked long hours, I didn’t feel alone.
I can’t say that I will ever schedule my kids with that many activities again and I am now certainly prepared for the end of the school year calendar of events — but I don’t regret that time. My family needed a lot of support and at each of those activities, parents showed up to support us, including my own. There’s no doubt, I would have forgotten some of those end of the year events had I not been briefed on the sidelines.
Those parents showed up. The village showed up. But I also went towards it, I leaned it. We were scheduled to the brim, we were stretched thin but it didn’t matter whether I was on a field or in my home — we were still stretched thin. And that village of parents surrounding us on those fields, in those classrooms, and within that rec center — showed up. They offered helping hands, and I gladly accepted.
Of course, I also learned what I already knew, my kids really did need less transitions and more sleep. And while we sustained it for a period of time, it wasn’t sustainable throughout the year.
But it was also an important lesson for me in something else I already knew — the power of the village. And it was an important lesson to model for my kids — on how to accept and receive help.
I often wonder about how if parents had that kind of support, immersed in extra hands when they have infants and toddlers, if they wouldn’t be so stressed. We blame the schedules and the activities, we blame ourselves and society blames us — and yet, perhaps it’s our way to finding support, to building community where it might not exist otherwise. Sitting at home, I wouldn’t have had those extra hands. In our current societal model, the only way often times parents are immersed in their communities is through activities and events — that are scheduled.
I remember one friend of mine recently selling me the idea of competitive sports with vigorous schedules — for a short period of time. Her main selling point? The community it has brought to her family. And what this pilot for my family showed us last spring is that we can sustain it for a short period of time. It also showed me the community sports and activities can bring.
I know as my kids grow, as sports and other activities become more competitive. I suspect they might want to be more involved in some of that competition. I have a feeling we will become busier and busier during certain seasons and what I’m learning to do with that is to fear it less, and embrace the positive that comes with that — the community.
I have also learned that in the off seasons, my kids, my husband and I, need to learn to work better as a team. My kids need to collect and start a load of laundry each night, ensuring as a season ramps up, uniforms are always in the wash and ready to go. My kids need to help with meal prep and clean up, being able to toss a hodge podge of foods together to make a picnic meal we can enjoy together on busy nights. And they need to be responsible for their own assignments and scheduling. During our less busy seasons, I want my kids to learn how to pitch in, how to help get us out the door with their siblings buckled in and a bag stocked with snacks and filled water bottles.
I simply can’t do it all, all the time. Perhaps for a short period I can. For a short period, it was sustainable — but not in the long run. We need to function like a team on and off the field.
We also have to prioritize the time we do have throughout the season to rest. I’ve learned certain times of the year to let things go. It’s not the time for reorganizing our house or taking on big projects. I’m just going to say no. And if it doesn’t get done, it doesn’t get done. Our sense of belonging and community is frankly more important.
During the busy season, is also not the time for me to try something new. I will have to learn golf and pickle ball another season when my kids are in the thick of it. My core is running and my core is community, so I’ll save adventure of the off season.
And during the busiest of seasons, is not when we will host as many gatherings in our own house. I let some of it go to build community outside of our house. The time will come in-between the busy seasons of scheduling where we refocus and gather together more in our own home, letting our team reconvene.
I don’t think we will ever have that many different activities in one season for each child again. But with four kids, I am certain there will be very busy seasons. But I’ll be ready for them. We’ll let some things go, we’ll be sure to find moments to recover together around the table and family hikes through the woods. And in the off-seasons, we’ll make sure we prioritize our family unit and learn to work together so when the busy season comes, we are prepared. And most importantly, we will lean into our community. We’ll embrace the carpools, we’ll be the ones to bring the snacks, and we’ll be part of the conversation — we’ll embrace the positive aspect of being over-scheduled, being immersed within the village.
I try not to be so critical of parents who schedule their kids with lots of activities. I wonder if without knowing it, it’s the modern solution to avoid feeling isolated, alone, and without support. Perhaps it’s not just to give kids an advantage, it’s not just the fear of missing out, it’s the feeling of belonging that can be otherwise difficult to attain in our current societal model. Raising kids in our current child centered but not family friendly society, it is sometimes the best way to feel connected as families to a community — pouring money and time into these activities. Recently, I’ve heard it referred to as, “Intensive Parenting,” parents scheduling so many activities to give their kids an advantage in the hopes they can eventually lead at least a comfortable, middle class life.
But what if the act of over-scheduling is much more complex than that? What if it’s filled with more subconscious thoughts that drive a parents desire to fill their children’s time slots with activities — and community, where we’ve lost some of that as extended families drift further away, all over the country and world.
Truthfully, as I think back, I think I was a better parent during that time. I remember the positive affirmations from other parents — “You got this!” “You are rocking it as a mom.” And the really big one, “SuperMom.”
By many standards, my kids were over-scheduled while I was a mom who was finding her way to the village she needed to thrive.
My kids today have less transitions, and more sleep, but that community we built then, it has stuck with us. And we are all better for it.
