Do you ever feel under-appreciated as a parent? I know that I feel that way all the time. My kids are absolutely fantastic about thanking me for helping them out, being there for them, etc. Yet there are tons of times when I feel like none of them notice all the things I do for them and the family. I was thinking about that yesterday as I rushed from the elementary school where I dropped off my daughter early for her training as a crossing guard. I raced to the grocery store and bought fruit and cookies to make into trays for my oldest son’s college signing ceremony. He’s going to run Track & Field in college (decathlon and hurdles) and yesterday was the office signing of his letter of intent. From there I shot home to complete the DVD I’d promised for the track coach of the photographs I’ve taken of the high school season thus far. With 853 photos, I had some prep and pruning to do before they were cut to DVD. Then I shot back over to the school to deliver the DVD and talk to the secretary about how reimbursements for sports team food is now done. Then over to the elementary school to pickup my youngest after school.

That’s pretty much an average day for me. Run here. Drive there. Get this for that kid. Deliver something to somebody. Cover all the bases, and fill in the gaps.

And through all that, I can’t stop my brain from working (which I’m told is a good thing!). So while racing about from place to place, I was thinking about all the things I do and what sort of analogy I could use to describe it. I’ve also been thinking about all my roles a lot lately, thanks to Stephen Covey’s The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. I’ve been trying to put a name on my support role for my kids. And I got it.

Pit Crew Dad.

While I’m not a NASCAR follower, it’s pretty hard to live in this part of the country and not be aware of NASCAR. Heck, our hometown paper dedicates the back page of the sports section to NASCAR a couple times a week. And like lots of people, I know the names of some of the drivers in the sport. But I’m absolutely certain that I don’t know the names of any of the folks on the support teams. I don’t know any crew chiefs. I don’t know any mechanics. I don’t know any of the guys who run out there and change out the tires (although I’ve wanted to have one of them on the road with me a couple of times when I had to change a tire!). Don’t get me wrong, the drivers are important. They’re the ones who put it all on the line for everybody to see. But the pit crew and the rest of the team are the ones who do all the other work that makes the magic happen. When they do their jobs right, the driver and car get the glory. The driver is the guy (or gal) who’s sitting there getting champagne poured all over them. Owners and sponsors are fawning all over them. They’re the ones who get interviewed by the media.

And back in the garage, the crew is cleaning up and getting ready to go on to the next race.

And so it is for me. I’m responsible for making sure all the t’s are crossed and the i’s are dotted before an event. I’m the one who has to get everybody and everything where it needs to be at the right time. And afterwards I’m the one sweeping the floor, scrubbing the counters, and cleaning up.

But you know what…I’m OK with it. I don’t really want to be the one in the limelight. It’s not something that I need, or really enjoy. I’m actually really happy being the Pit Crew. I love the sense of accomplishment when an event goes off without a hitch. I love the fact that the people that I care about don’t have to sweat the little details. I’m good at that. I have a knack for thinking about all the other stuff that everybody else doesn’t consider. I love making lists, executing on those lists, and pulling things together. Even last minute (just don’t tell my kids that I don’t really mind the last-minute part).

I’d rather that my family be able to concentrate on the things that matter to them and that they’re good at. I’ll do the back-end planning, the messy execution, and all the stuff that I”m good at. I’ll stand behind the bright lights and let them get their names in the paper and their photos taken.

At the end of the day, I know that they appreciate what I’m doing for them. And even if they didn’t, my sense of accomplishment as a foundation block for them is enough for me.

Of course, I love it when they notice and thank me.

So the bottom line is that I’m pretty happy and comfortable in my role as Pit Crew Dad.