October Family Time: The Season of Showing Up
There’s something about October that makes me realize how quickly life changes.
One minute, we’re settling into the school year.
The next, basketball season is here.
And suddenly our weekends have a different rhythm.
There are games to get to. Practices to remember. Shoes by the door. Water bottles that somehow disappear. Schedules that require their own calendar.
And then there’s the driving.
So. Much. Driving.
But somewhere in between the rushing around and figuring out where we’re supposed to be, I’ve started noticing something.
These are the moments.
Not the perfectly planned family days.
Not the big vacations.
Not the picture-perfect weekends where everybody is rested, coordinated, and miraculously in a good mood.
These.
The busy ones.
The basketball ones.
The “What time do we leave?” ones.
The sitting in the gym watching my kids do something they love.
There’s a strange sweetness in watching your children get older.
You spend so much time helping them become independent, and then one day you realize they actually are.
They have their own interests.
Their own friends.
Their own opinions.
Their own things they care about.
And basketball becomes one of those places where I get to watch them become a little more of themselves.
I’m not there to make every shot.
I’m not there to fix every bad game.
I’m not even there to give some perfectly inspiring speech from the bleachers.
I’m just there.
Watching.
Cheering.
Listening afterward.
Sometimes talking.
Sometimes not.
And I think there is something beautiful about that kind of presence.
Because as children get older, family time starts looking different.
It isn't always everybody gathered around the kitchen table.
Sometimes it's a gymnasium.
Sometimes it's a car ride home.
Sometimes it's grabbing food afterward because nobody remembered to eat before the game.
Sometimes it's a quick conversation in the driveway before everyone disappears into the house.
The moments get smaller.
But somehow, they don't feel less important.
Maybe they matter more because I know they won't always be here.
There will be a last basketball season.
A last ride to practice.
A last game where I’m sitting in those bleachers watching them play.
I don't know when those lasts will come.
And I'm not trying to rush toward them.
If anything, I'm trying to slow down enough to notice what is happening right now.
Because this is the part of motherhood nobody really prepares you for.
You spend years helping them grow.
And then you realize growing means they slowly need you differently.
So you learn to meet them there.
You show up.
You watch.
You listen.
You cheer.
You let them tell you the same story about the game three different times because they're excited about it.
You celebrate the little things.
You let them be disappointed when something doesn't go their way.
And you remind yourself that your job isn't to make every moment easy.
Sometimes it's just to make sure they don't have to experience it alone.
That's what October feels like to me this year.
Not just basketball.
Not just busy schedules.
Not just another season on the calendar.
It's a reminder that family time changes as your children change.
And maybe that's okay.
Maybe making memories doesn't always mean creating something special.
Maybe sometimes it means paying attention to the life that's already happening.
The squeak of basketball shoes on the gym floor.
The sound of the crowd.
The drive home.
The conversations that happen when nobody is trying to have a conversation.
The ordinary little pieces of a life that, years from now, might become the things I miss the most.
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1
There is a season for everything.
And right now, we're in this one.
Basketball.
Busy weekends.
Growing kids.
Showing up.
And learning, once again, that sometimes the most meaningful moments don't announce themselves while we're living them.
They're just tucked inside the ordinary.
Waiting for us to notice.
If you’re navigating your own season of family, growing children, changing rhythms, and trying to stay present for the life happening right in front of you, you’ll find more reflections like this here:
https://www.pinterest.com/growreadlearn/quietly-becoming/
A place for reminders that becoming doesn’t always happen loudly.
Sometimes it happens in the quiet moments — in the car rides, the bleachers, the conversations, and the simple decision to be present for the people we love.