May 20, 2025

There’s a unique kind of parenting journey reserved for those of us with kids who play goalie. Whether it’s on the ice, the soccer field, or any net in between, watching your child step into that high-pressure role is unlike anything else.

My son is a goalie—and that means I’m a goalie mom.

From the outside, people might see a padded-up kid stopping pucks or blocking shots. But from where I sit (in line with his net, with a nervous smile), it’s so much more than that. Being a goalie is about bravery, resilience, and mental toughness. And being a goalie mom? It’s about learning to let go, to trust, to cheer through clenched teeth, and to love fiercely through every save and every goal against.

Let’s be honest—this position isn’t for the faint of heart. And neither is parenting someone who plays it.

Goalies are the last line of defense. Every mistake is magnified, every goal feels personal, and there’s no place to hide. As a parent, it’s agonizing to watch your child carry that weight. You see their face after a tough game, the self-blame, the quiet disappointment, the pressure they put on themselves.

You hear the comments in the stands—the casual critiques, the analysis, the blame when the scoreboard doesn’t go your way. And while you know it’s part of the game, it still stings when it’s your kid in the crease.

And yet… I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Because with every game, I get to witness something incredible: growth. Grit. Grace under pressure. I see my son stand tall in the net, take responsibility, bounce back from a bad goal, and celebrate the little wins—the glove saves, the clean period, the support from teammates.

I see how he learns to lead from the back of the ice, how he stays focused when the pucks in the other end, and how he holds his head high after a tough loss. I see the quiet confidence building over time—not from never failing, but from learning he can recover every time he does.

And with every win, the pride swells. Not because of the scoreboard, but because I know how hard he’s worked. I’ve seen the early mornings, the McDonalds honey packets so he doesn’t barf, the extra practices, the hours spent replaying games in his head. I’ve watched him earn his teammates’ trust and his coach’s respect.

Even the losses are part of the reward. Because they teach him humility, accountability, and perseverance. And they teach me, too—about patience, perspective, and the power of just being there.  Being a goalie mom to Jackson, means cheering louder, hugging tighter, learning to bite my tongue and how to love the pressure because my kid loves the position.   I will forever be proud—not just of the performance, but of the person behind the pads.

At the end of the day, I’m not proud because he’s a goalie. I’m proud because he’s my son—and I get to be in his corner as he stands in that crease, game after game, becoming who he’s meant to be.