Wear the Lifejacket. Be the Lifejacket.

Wear the Lifejacket. Be the Lifejacket.

Fifteen years ago, in a hectic, loud gym, I simultaneously thought, "OMG, WTH is that kid wearing?" and "Yes, these are gonna be my people." I have my boys all decked out in our new school colors. I'm in my new Patriots shirt, bag packed with all the appropriate game snacks and toys, thinking I'm going to make the best impression with the coaches' wives.

Then I see two little girls running down the side of the court (ok, on the court), with a mom slowly trailing. The first little girl is in a watermelon sleeveless dress, rain boots, and a LIFE JACKET. It was snowing that day in Nebraska. She jumps into a coach's arms and then finds her place by me. This spunky girl is a coach's kid.

At that moment, I knew no matter what, I would fit in.

The mom hugged me, looked at my organized bag of game-day-ready treats and toys, and said, "Yep, we are going to make a great team.

That day, I learned that coaches' families, like all families, come in all shapes and sizes. But finding your tribe matters.

The second wife shows up late for the game, already misplaced both her boys to most likely the bench or locker room, but has no worries at all. I didn't realize until we had sat in gyms together for well over five plus years that she knows nothing about basketball or football or any other sport for that matter. I could tell stories all day, but my favorite was when she asked why my hubby (the head coach) always tapped his shoulders or made a fist. Ummmm, that's how coaches call a timeout. I laughed, we hugged, grabbed more popcorn and enjoyed the game. 

I'm the wife who doesn't miss a play, understands the game, and provides all the necessary treats and toys. They are the wives who entertain the kids, take care of potty breaks, and skip games if the week is too much.

But they will always have my back.

They have been my sidekicks through wins and losses on the court and in life. They don't judge me for pulling my kids out of school to attend every game and I have learned not to wonder what their kids will be wearing or if they will show up. They are amazing moms, wives, and my very best confidants. 

As coaches' wives, embrace the chaos, even if it means your daughter goes to a basketball game in a lifejacket.

Trust me, it made this uptight, strict, organized mom relax a bit. They taught me to go with the flow. The game won't be affected if my kids don't match or if they spill popcorn.

I did teach them a trick or two along the way. On the same night as the lifejacket attire, this "put-together" mom had her boys naked in the bleachers after the game. And the other wives said, "WTH is she doing?" I did diaper changes and put on jammies before we left the gym. That way, when the boys fell asleep on the car ride home, I could just slip them into bed.

The next week, all 6 of the coaches' kids were in jammies for post-game hugs with Dad! 

We have now raised toddlers, teens, and college kids together. To this day, some of our kids are mismatched, shoes forgotten, and others look like they could model for Nike, but we are all successful and loved.

We are united as a coaching family. We offer each other a "life jacket" when we are drowning in the season.

Do what works for your family, there is no right and wrong, just different.

Find your personal Life Preserver.

 

Renae Foster, boy mom, loud basketball fan, learning the quietness of being a golf spectator. I have loved every stage of being a mom with my hubby by my side. We are in the "hold on tight, we are almost empty nesters" stage.  
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