It is easy to become frustrated with you when you haven’t been home for the 400th meltdown and for the 50th fight requiring a referee. It’s easy to not care about what you’ve been doing while I have been handling the home front, but I do truly care.
In trying to scrap up their first win, there were sooooo many long nights of stress, of games, of practices, trying to get a little closer to the goal. Sometimes, even sacrificing his “home team” for more scouting, more film, more scheming. Something. Anything to get over the hump.
But, it seems as though once it’s over, we are missing something. The end of the season messes with my mo-jo.
After two and a half hours of a screaming baby (who never fusses) and three other littles who weren’t following any instructions (because who wants to follow those once you are home from school), I needed a sub. I sent out my SOS text. It was met with a call.