I woke up Saturday morning, took a look out at the clear, blue sky, and realized there was nowhere I had to go. Then it dawned on me: I'm no longer a soccer mom.

This year, as my son entered middle school, he gave up the cleats. He really had lost interest in the sport mid-way through last season, but I wouldn't let him quit. His team ended up winning the league championship, so he went out on top.

I was a faithful soccer mom. I took snacks to the team when it was my turn and I made sure my son made it to practices and games on time. I cheered for the team in the blazing heat of early September and the pouring rain of late October. I took pictures and videos of playoff games and consoled my son when he missed goals and made penalties. 

Now it's over. I don’t have to hurry home to put dinner on the table before a practice. No more struggling to put on shin guards or help my son into the soccer shoes that always seemed too small for his feet in bulky socks.

But what does this mean to my identity? Do politicians still want my vote? With my older son, I was a baseball mom. For a while, I was a swim team mom. I’m still a scout mom and a basketball mom.

I’ve enjoyed them all. But I look forward to the day when I'll be just mom.