We’ve entered that part of the year that seems interminable. The stretch between Christmas and Easter when snow days eat up the few planned holidays and are so stressful unto themselves that there really is no break. I know I’m slightly biased, but I also feel like swim season is the longest season out of all the sports seasons, and having all three kids participate in it, as well as coaching it, has made for some very long weeks. Although the varsity regular season is behind us, meaning G and E, as manager, are done, with the exception of leagues, A still has a month of practice to prepare for districts.

As we pulled into the driveway one night, after practice, I gently shook him awake. He had fallen asleep on the short drive home. The junior year of high school is no joke for anyone, and A is taking it to a new level, carrying such a full course load that he doesn’t have a lunch period.

I’ve been a little concerned about how hard he has chosen to push himself since the beginning of the school year, but he has been managing to juggle all the balls, including membership in the band, the drama club, a sport each season, and half a dozen other school organizations, not to mention working on his Eagle Scout project.

Since it was just the two of us, I thought it might be time for a heart-to-heart about how he was really doing. I’ll leave out the gory details, to save him some mortification, but one of the things he said really hit home for me, and I thought it might benefit some others that are at a similar point in their life. As always, the wisdom that my kids sometimes manage to display catches me off guard, and I end up kicking myself for not trusting them more.

I’ve always been a big fan of letting the kids try different things. Steve and I never wanted to be the kind of parents that forced our kids into our mold, but we also didn’t want them to miss an opportunity to find something that truly appealed to them.

The problem with our kids is that they kept enjoying all the activities, and nothing really fell by the wayside. I felt like I finally needed to ask A if maybe he had finally taken on too much, and something needed to get dropped. I silently reminded myself that I had to be supportive of any decision he might make, even if it meant that he declined to participate in the district swim meet, or that the half-hour of jazz band rehearsal was just breaking the camel’s back.

“First of all, Mom,” he said, “when else in my life am I ever going to be able to do all these things at the same time again?” Since I am currently swim mom, drama mom, band mom, dance mom, etc. etc. etc. mom, I smartly answered, “when you have kids,” and immediately regretted not taking his observation seriously. He was right. We’ve always known that due to his heart defect, sports participation has never been a guarantee, and other than maintaining his physical fitness, collegiate sports are not something he’s interested in pursuing.

As his interested and ability in drama and vocal performance has grown, I’ve offered him the opportunity to expand his horizons, and again, it’s not something he’s expressed an interest in doing. A huge part of what he loves about both the band and drama is that his closest friends participate in it as well, and it’s not so much about doing what he loves to do, it’s about doing what he loves to do with them, and for his community.

While I pointed out that he will certainly develop another sense of community when he goes to college, or even after college when he settles down, he simply said, “but it won’t be the same.”

He is, as usual, correct. I look back on my own high school days fondly. I enjoyed the many activities that I did, and pursued almost none of them once those days were over. I think there is something extra special about being part of a small and close-knit community, especially when you’re in high school.

I know that one of the reasons A is allowed to participate in as many activities as he is, is because coaches and advisers in our relatively small school don’t have a big enough pool to choose from to be extremely selective.

I hope this comes across as the compliment that I mean it to be, but these coaches and advisers also have to go above and beyond to make their organization one that kids are willing to make sacrifices to join, and that they’re willing to max out their schedule for like A has, just because he can’t imagine not being a part of them.

G is not too far behind A, as he is currently managing both a winter wrestling season and a varsity swim season, and not performing too badly in either of them, and I know he’s willing to do three hours or practice a night (and keep his grades up) because he has coaches that motivate him and teams that support him.

Although I don’t wish the stress that comes with keeping up with these crazy schedules on anyone, I am trying to appreciate A’s attitude. I know my supporting role as the “all the hats mom” is coming to an end soon with him, and I know the next few years between G and E will also go too quickly.

Along the way, they’re not just playing sports, performing in plays, or being in the chemistry club, they’re learning time management, prioritization, how to talk to adults about what’s important to them, and so many other skills that are going to serve them well in every aspect of their future, even when they’re not kicking a soccer ball, or playing the drums, or volunteering as a junior coach. When else am I going to be able to sit back and watch them excel and grow in so many ways?

Liz Pinkey is a contributing columnist who appears weekly in the Times News.