I've been a pharmacist for over 30 years. I've also been a sports mom for most of that time — and I'll tell you right now, the sideline is harder than the pharmacy counter. Here's everything I know about showing up for your athlete.

What I Did

I showed up. Every single time.

Not just physically — though that matters more than you know. I was present. I knew their coaches, their teammates, their schedules. I understood the culture of their sport. That knowledge made me a better advocate for them when it mattered most.

Your athlete notices when you're there. Even when they pretend they don't.

I let them fail in front of me.

This one was hard. When your child struggles, every instinct says fix it. But I learned early that the most important thing I could do was stay calm on the sideline, let them work through the hard moments, and be the safe place after. Not the fixer. The anchor.

I treated their bodies like the instruments they are.

As a pharmacist, I understood something that a lot of sports parents miss — recovery isn't optional. It's the training. What your athlete does after practice is just as important as what they do during it.

I made sure my boys had real recovery support from the time they were young athletes. Clean ingredients. Pharmacist-formulated. Things I actually trusted — because I made them myself.

I paid attention to the mental side.

Confidence is built in practice and protected at home. I watched what I said after losses. I celebrated effort, not just outcomes. I asked questions that opened conversations instead of shutting them down.

"What was hard today?" goes a lot further than "Why didn't you play more?"

I built a team around them.

Coaches, trainers, teachers, mentors — I was intentional about who was in their corner. I advocated for them when they couldn't advocate for themselves, and I taught them to do it for themselves as they grew. That skill outlasts the sport.

What I Wish I'd Done

Started recovery protocols earlier.

I wish I'd been as intentional about recovery at age 10 as I was at 16. Young bodies are resilient — but they're not invincible. Building good recovery habits early makes everything easier as the training load increases.

The soreness, the bruises, the overuse — it compounds. Start the routine before they need it.

Said "I'm proud of you" more — regardless of the score.

The wins are easy to celebrate. I wish I'd been more deliberate about celebrating the effort, the character, the perseverance. Those are the things that outlast the sport.

Taken better care of myself.

You can't pour from an empty cup. The seasons are long. The demands are real. You need rest, support, and your own recovery routine too. I say this as the woman who formulated the Sports Mom Kit — I need it as much as they do.

Trusted my instincts about injury sooner.

Coaches want to play your athlete. Your athlete wants to play. As the mom — and in my case the pharmacist — I had to learn to speak up earlier when something felt off. You know your child's body. Trust that knowledge. No game is worth a long-term setback.

Documented more.

The highlight reels are great. But I wish I had more of the ordinary moments — the drives to practice, the postgame meals, the conversations in the car. Those are the ones I think about most.

The Bottom Line

I raised two successful student athletes. One plays professionally in the NBA G League. One is about to become an attorney. Neither of those outcomes happened by accident.

They happened because we were consistent. Because we prioritized their whole person — not just their performance. Because we showed up on the hard days, not just the highlight reel days. Because we built a home where they felt safe enough to fail and supported enough to try again.

And yes — because we took care of their bodies. The scrapes, the bruises, the soreness, the sick days before big games. The little things that add up over a career.

You're doing the same thing. Every bag you pack, every game you drive to, every pep talk you give in the parking lot before they walk in — it matters. More than they'll ever tell you right now.

Keep going. You've got this.