Bandtober is Back
My goodness the magic of this month. The seasons starting to (finally) shift, sweater weather creeping in and, since I’m from Texas, the temperature outside is finally below the temperature of my pumpkin spice latte. Bring on fall!
Oh, and it’s Bandtober.
This month, a blur of activity and chaos swirls about our household. There is a football game each weekend and then mere hours before or after, there’s also a band competition—an event that typically runs 12-18 hours long dependent on our advancement during the contest.
There used to be a time where I would relish in dusting off of my knee high boots and finding a new fall lipstick color… add a pumpkin or two to my dining table and smell the sweetness of nutmeg and savor the thought. But Bandtober makes “wife-ing” a full contact sport—packing at least 3-4 meals weekly to be eaten on the road or perched curbside, and don’t even get me started on what juggling the man-cub and household chores turn into.
All I gotta say is: Thank You Curbside Pick Up Inventor.
The result of our choatic ballet is becoming a part of what I consider to be one of Texas’ greatest traditions. Regardless of where you’re from, I think we can all agree, there is an undeniable magic to Friday Night Lights.
It wasn’t until recently that I came to know not all teams have a band. For me at least, when I walk into the stadium, there’s just this amazing moment each game when the crowd roars alongside the cheerleaders chant in harmony underneath the glare of the stadium lights—and right alongside those groups, is where I live. When you hear that snare drum or tuba bass line and you unconsciously start dancing, that’s what fills my tank for the rest of the week.
It’s during those moments when all of these groups come together that make this life so wonderfully worth it. It takes everyone—the cheerleaders, the choir, the announcers and coaches, the football team and trainers, and yes, that marching band, to make a stadium more than just another stop on my map. It makes it home.
When you hear that mix of all those voices and music and heartbeats, it’s all of those beautiful groups coming together that give my heart strings the tug I seek.
Bless the hundreds of students and staff that congregate together to make all of those memories come to life. Every one of them has a different part to play, but every one of them has their school spirit in their hearts, and that’s where we unite together in our hard work and grit.
But for me, this month at least, I’m blessed to hear that very last note of the very last marching show for the year.
When you’re standing on the sidelines with tears falling knowing they gave it their all—it also means, I did too.
This month is all about getting to follow around my favorite musicians and watching them use their blessings. I think we find that with all of the sports sideline wives support. You cry at wins, at losses, and the progress in between. They are my kids—you want nothing but the highest honor bestowed on them. There is a peace in all of this chaos. Peace that God placed me here without explanation, but with purpose. I’m merely a supporting role in His perfection, but what a ride it is.
This month, if I may request, add me and my musical wives in your list of prayers we are all sharing. We are doing double time in a world where every beat counts.
Move over PSL …. Happy Bandtober!
Lesley Ann Jones is a band director’s wife in Katy, TX. She has one future tuba-playing son who just turned three. She works full-time as a business analyst in the Oil & Gas industry. When she’s not toddler-wrangling, she serves as the photography chair for the band and volunteers at church. In her spare time…wait….nevermind. Catch her snaps of band wife life at @crhsbandwife on Instagram.