It’s been the same every year for as long as I can remember. From April to July, almost every Sunday is spent at the baseball fields.

And with those Sundays come all kinds of weather. Some mornings start off cool enough that you need a blanket wrapped around your legs and a hot chocolate in hand. Other days bring the kind of steady, stubborn drizzle that makes you wonder if you’ll be watching from under an umbrella or from the car. And then, there are the windy days. The really windy ones, where tents go tumbling, dirt blows across the infield, and you end up eating your hair more than your lunch.

This past Sunday was Mother’s Day and no, it wasn’t your typical day of pampering. No sleeping in. No breakfast in bed. No mimosa-filled brunch.

Instead, I was at Ballparks of America in Branson, Missouri—sitting on a metal bleacher with my hoodie pulled tight, sunscreen in one hand and a Powerade in the other, watching my son compete in yet another baseball tournament.

And while it may not have looked like the kind of Mother’s Day you’d find on a greeting card, or see in a Hallmark movie, it was exactly where I wanted to be.

Still, sometime between the third inning and the concession stand run, I started thinking… if you asked all of the moms watching baseball this weekend, instead of the usual Mother’s Day activities—what they’d choose, I think a lot of us would still pick the bleachers.

We’d choose the dusty fields, the grass-stained pants, the sound of cleats on concrete, and the thrill of watching our kids do what they love. We’d take the early mornings, the crazy weather, the last-minute schedule changes, and somehow still have snacks packed, water bottles filled, and sunscreen ready.

Because for so many of us, this is what Mother’s Day looks like. And honestly? It’s kind of perfect.

So just for fun, let’s turn the camera around. If you’re a baseball mom, I want to know:

💬 What position would you play on the field, and why?
🎵 What would be your walk-up song?
⚾ And what’s one baseball moment you’ll never forget?

Drop your answers in the comments or share them on social—because this game may belong to the kids, but moms? We’ve definitely earned our spot in the lineup.

💬 What position would you play on the field, and why?

I’d be at first base, no question. Because honestly? I don’t trust anyone else to be in charge of catching the ball and making the easy outs. I want to be where the action is, where I can clean up the wild throws and make sure things get done right the first time. First base feels like my home base—steady, dependable, and always ready with a glove and a game face. Besides, if snacks, uniforms, and tournament fees were baseballs, I’ve been catching them all season.

🎵 What would be your walk-up song?

Definitely “I Am Woman” by Emmy Meli. Because let’s face it, as a baseball mom, you have to be strong, resilient, and ready to take on whatever comes your way, whether it’s dealing with rain delays, forgotten equipment, or the inevitable last-minute snack runs.

The song says it all: “I am woman, hear me roar.” It’s a perfect anthem for the mom who’s juggling a million things and still manages to show up, cheer loud, and be there for her kid, no matter what. Plus, it’s got that perfect mix of confidence and feel-good energy. Just what you need when you’re navigating another weekend at the ballpark!

⚾ And what’s one baseball moment you’ll never forget?

Without a doubt it was watching my son hit his very first homerun. I watched as that ball soared over the fence and saw him celebrate while rounding the bases, hands held high above his head as if to say “I did it!!” And then watching him repeat the exact same moment his next at bat. We’d gotten a two-fer that day, a BOGO of homeruns, if you will, and it couldn’t have happened to a better kid. He’d worked hard all season on his hitting and it had finally paid off. We’re looking for a repeat this season, and when that happens I’ll be the first one on my feet cheering him on.

So no, I didn’t get brunch or flowers this Mother’s Day.
But I got something better:
A front row seat to watch my kid chase his dreams.
And I wouldn’t trade that for all the mimosas in the world.

Happy (Belated) Mother’s Day to all the other baseball moms out there. I see you, I celebrate you, and I’m right there with you…somewhere between the third inning stretch and the concession stand run.