DARLINGTON, S.C. -- David Stremme was at a racetrack before he could walk.

As an infant, his mother would place cotton in his tiny ears to protect him from the loud engines of the Street Stocks at local tracks in South Bend, Ind.

As a toddler, the Mottville Speedway was his playground where he would roll his matchbox cars up and down the metal grandstands.

This was the life of a boy whose mother was a determined racecar driver.

Her rearing and careful guidance would shape Stremme's future and foray into the world's most popular form of racing: NASCAR.

Before the green flag drops Sunday on the Dodge Avenger 500, Cindy Stremme, a long-time racer in Northern Indiana, will be there to walk her son across the driver's stage -- a Mother's Day present hallmarking a one-of-a-kind relationship between a mother and son.

"I'm so pleased to be able to be up there with him," Cindy said. "I remember his first real Busch race, 2003 in Nashville. That was a good one. I usually don't get too emotional, I don't carry on. But by the end of the first lap, listening to him on the radio, I just started to bawl. My kid made it. My kid!"

Arguably one of the biggest surprises in the Cup Series so far this season with seven top-20 finishes and five of 13th or better, including a career-best eighth at Talladega, Stremme, driver of the No. 40 Dodge at Chip Ganassi Racing, is definitely making it.

The performance is a much-needed turnaround compared to last season where his average finish was 26th. But a momentum shift late last season would carry into this season, and with that came a dose of confidence Stremme so badly needed to affirm his position in the sport's top-tier series.

"He has a new spring in his step. He found a little bit of confidence and confidence begets more confidence. It has snowballed for David this season," Ganassi said.

And as much as his progress on the track has evolved, so has his relationship with his mother.

Before his NASCAR career began, the pair spent nearly every weekend together at tracks around the Midwest. David would race Street Stocks and Late Models, his mother as well, and sometimes even against one another.

When they raced against one another, plenty of times, David would be defeated by his mom. If he wanted the win, he would have to work for it, recalled Cindy.

But it was never something she would antagonize him about.

Shop for mom!

Haven't bought mom that special gift yet? It's not too late. Ride along as Reed Sorenson goes Mother's Day shopping.

• Complete story, click here

"I always told David the cars come home to same house, the money and the cars come home to same house. It was never, oh eat crow, ma wins over David," she said.

"We needed the money to keep racing and finish the races to make the money."

And David never let mom win either, not even when they raced on Mother's Day.

It was a time Cindy cherished, but now her son is 1,000 miles south of where the two shared countless memories on the tracks of South Bend leaving a void she placates with weekly phone calls, regularly scheduled visits and trips to the pole barn where dozens of racing trophies stand.

"Sometimes I can't remember which ones are mine and which are his," laughed Cindy.

When you ask David to talk about his mother and her racing roots that took hold in Street Stocks, emotions well up inside. Like a proud mother, he likes to brag about the way she got her start.

Early in her marriage to husband Lou Stremme, also a racer in Street Stocks and Late Models, Cindy was content to watch from the stands. She didn't know much about racing when the pair married in 1974. She watched her husband, but also the drivers she believed to be problematic on the track so she could forewarn him.

However, her role would take a drastic turn from spectator to participator in 1981 after her husband dared her to get behind the wheel for a Powder Puff event, a ladies only race for fun.

"I said mom I need you to watch the boys, a gentlemen is gonna let me run his car because some lady got scared to death," Cindy recalled.

The car owner gave the at the time 28-year-old mother of two young boys a quick lesson on how to drive a Street Stock car in the most unique fashion.

"I sat on the floor board of the passenger side on my knees, holding on to the roll-cage bar while he did a couple of laps," Cindy said. "I paid attention to the little things."

The drivers then drew for position and Cindy pulled third, outside row and jumped in the car that fortunately fit her with virtually no adjustments.

The fit proved to be a winner as the first-time racer took that Street Stock to Victory Lane and celebrated with her husband and two boys; family bonding at its finest.

Cindy's success would continue for years to come in Powder Puffs and Street Stocks for prize money.

And like mother like son.

As David grew taller, his love for the sport grew larger.

Following the lead of his parental racing unit, Stremme, only 5 years old, started winning "Big Wheel" races on the same night his parents were racing stock cars at the local tracks such as South Western Michigan Speedway. If his parents were at the track, David was at the track.

His parents never pushed him to race. Cindy said it was a natural progression, really.

"David never came out and said he was going to race, it was just always in his actions, not really words," she said.

Cindy felt it best to always give her boys, Bobby and David, a choice. They could go to the races, if not, she would line up a sitter and send them with the grandparents to play miniature golf or go bowling.

After 48 Cup starts and two full-time Busch Series seasons finishing 10th and 13th in the point standings, skipping recreational activities and staying close to the track was a good choice and one that paid off.

Now Stremme is in a position to repay his parents for the years of support and sacrifices they made to see his racing career come to fruition.

"Since I've gone Cup racing I'm a lot busier but it's affording me the chance to help them out financially with the team back home, but I'll never be able to repay my parents for what they've given me. You just can't put a price on that."