Cheering for mom

I’ve started playing basketball with a group of women in my church. It is not going well.

Our first game was a pretty resounding defeat of 55—10. I know. It’s bad. Our second game ended 36-0. Yea. No points. Awesome.

So you’d think I’d be totally humiliated by my lack of b-ball skills. I’m seriously terrible. But I love playing because there is a little 4-year-old girl on the sidelines yelling, “Go mommy. Run! Make a basket!”

While I have yet to actually make that basket for my little cheerleader, I love the feeling of having her cheer me on. My husband is there too, supporting me as much as could be expected from someone who knows just how badly I stink at sports.

I’m not delusional or in denial about my lack of skills, but I love playing because it feels great to have someone cheer for me.

I think as moms we spend our days being cheerleaders for everyone else. We spend most of our time boosting egos, nursing hurt feelings and kissing boo-boos – and that’s just for our husbands. But in all seriousness, we spend our time encouraging, supporting and inspiring everyone around us to be the best they can be. We put ourselves last and let our children take center stage while we applaud from the sidelines.

So who cheers for the cheerleader?

I mean, of course my family gives me a standing ovation every night when I pull dinner out of the oven. And every time I tell my daughter not to do something, she applauds me and says, “Go mom! Way to set consistent boundaries! I’ll thank you when I’m older.”

OK, so those things don’t happen. Ever. So I’m content to soak up my four-quarters-worth of spotlight each Saturday on the basketball court. And I think it’s a pretty good experience for my daughter to be part of the cheering section for a change and to be proud of her mom – at least until she realizes that the goal of the game isn’t to hit the backboard.

Do you get enough cheerleading from your husband and children? Who are your biggest cheerleaders?

Erin Stewart is a regular blogger for Deseret News. From stretch marks to the latest news for moms, Stewart discusses it all while her 4-year-old daughter crams Mr. Potato Head pieces in her little sister’s nose.