When Sport Stretches a Family Too Thin - Globe Artichokes and the Time My Child Needed Most

Jennifer Harris
6 days ago
5 min read

I’ve delivered five SUPER-P workshops in the last week alone.It’s been a busy start to the year.

At the beginning of every workshop, we break into small groups. Parents chat among themselves about the challenges they’ve faced. These are workshops, not lectures - space to talk, reflect, and realise you’re not the only one feeling this way.

And in every single workshop, the same theme has come up.

Not pressure.

Not competition anxiety.

Not even car-ride conversations.

Siblings.

The dad with two children in different sports, pulled in opposite directions.The family with four kids, trying desperately to give everyone “their moment.”The mum with two children in the same sport, competing against each other.

And I feel a bit guilty - because it’s not something I cover directly in the workshop.

But you can’t do everything, right?

The truth is, sibling dynamics are impossible to solve with a neat framework or a one-size-fits-all answer. The age-old question of “How do I make this fair?” has no universal solution.

But I want to tackle it here.

What Children Are Really Looking For

When parents take the SUPER-P workshop, we talk a lot about how children look to us.

They watch our:

behaviour
body language
words
tone
actions

They are constantly scanning for one thing:“Am I okay with you?”

They don’t want to let us down.They want to make us proud. And this isn’t just true for children in sport - it’s true for all children.

That’s why parents often tell me something unexpected after the workshop:they find themselves parenting their other children differently too.

They remember the lessons.They slow down.They communicate more intentionally.They show up differently.

And here’s the key bit.

Children don’t want equal. They want attuned.

Small amounts of the right thing.

That might be:

a car journey to school
time at the dinner table
a shared task
a few uninterrupted minutes

It doesn’t need to be big. But if the communication is right, it matters deeply.

My Own Hard Lesson

I have two daughters.

Lily was heavily involved in gymnastics.

Evie was not.

And I know - truly know - that it was hard for Evie.

Growing up in the shadow of a high-level athlete is no fun at all. Being mistaken for her sister. Being congratulated by well-meaning people for achievements that weren’t hers. Hating every second of it.

And I know I failed her, time and time again.

Not because she wasn’t loved. Not because she wasn’t cared for.

But because she didn’t have me - and I know that’s who she wanted most.

My mistake was thinking I had to make things equal. Equal time. Equal opportunities. Equal “special things.”

I thought I had to match supporting a British gymnast with something just as impressive for my younger child.

I couldn’t.

The Bit of the Story I Rarely Tell

In my workshops, I talk about 2017 - quitting my job, going back to university, pursuing this passion to support sport parents.

What I don’t always say is that I was struggling badly.

I was working part-time. Running a house. Being a wife. Being a mum.

And failing at everything.

Jack of all trades. Master of none.

Something had to give - and the only thing that could go was my job.

When I went back to university, something unexpected happened.I became master of my own world.

And finally, my children could be my priority.

But the question remained:What do I do for my youngest to match supporting a British gymnast?

The answer, of course, was painfully simple.

Nothing special. Just time.

What Time Actually Looked Like

No grand gestures.No flashy activities.No forced hobbies.

Just… time.

And one of the most important places it happened was the weekly supermarket shop.

My time was limited, so I combined two priorities.

We shopped together.We talked.We laughed.

Evie learned about budgeting.She taught me about food combinations (she’s incredibly creative with food).We choose items each week for the local food bank. Sometimes we pop into a more expensive shop for a little luxury - Evie loves globe artichokes.Then we come home and cook together.

Nothing dramatic.

But now, at 15, she still comes with me on the weekly shop.

It’s become one of my favourite times of the week.

And About the Judgement…

Along the way, I received criticism.

People told me I only spoke about one daughter on social media.That I favoured the gymnast.That I’d discarded my “less successful” child.

Behind the scenes, nothing could have been further from the truth.

Evie and I spent far more time together, because we could. It just wasn’t visible. It wasn’t performative. And it wasn’t something that looked impressive from the outside.

But it mattered.

So My Message Is This

You cannot split yourself in two (or three or four).You cannot make everything equal. And trying to will leave you exhausted and guilty.

What children want isn’t fairness measured in hours or achievements.

They want:

presence
attunement
moments that feel theirs

Tiny, intentional pockets of connection.

If you’re juggling siblings in sport and feeling like someone is always missing out - you’re not failing.

You’re human.

And sometimes, the smallest things - done with care - are the ones that stay with our children the longest.

A Small Ask (That Could Make a Big Difference)

If this post resonated with you, I’d love to ask something small.

If you’re a parent, please consider sharing this with your club, your coach, or another sport parent who might be quietly struggling. You can recommend my work, tag me on social media, or simply say “This helped me - maybe it could help others too.”

That kind of support means more than you know.

If you’re a coach or club lead reading this, please know this: parents want to do well. They are committed, tired, emotionally invested, and often navigating far more than anyone realises. They are warriors - but even warriors need support.

I’m currently delivering online SUPER-P workshops, and I’m running three this week alone. They are simple to arrange, evidence-based, and designed to support parents - not judge them. The impact on parents and children has been shown to be genuinely transformative.

If you want parents who feel: