“Where’s Daddy?” — The question that gets asked regularly this time of year. Each time the answer is the same — “He’s at football.” That phrase, “He’s at football.” Sure, that’s where he is, but what he’s doing there is so much more than just the game of football. He’s making boys stronger, physically and …
I am a Seven. If you are familiar with the Enneagram, you’ll know that I tend to be bubbly, carefree, and lively. To be more specific, I am a Seven with a six wing, which means I serve up my spontaneity with a side of anxiety. In short, I sidestep pain, negativity, and unpleasant …
Let’s talk about therapy. Because I’m a therapist. And a coach’s wife. And, this might be just what you need. I am super happy to report that mental and emotional healthcare has lost some of its stigma over the years since I started seeing folks in the early ‘aughts. Thanks to some brilliant awareness campaigns, …
When you walked down the aisle that hot summer day, your thoughts were of the impossibly handsome man standing in front of you, certainly not of the demands of baseball season breathing down your neck while the football hat still hangs on the banister. Exhausted, lonely, tired- the wife of a coach of many sports. …
On June 10, 2019, we arrived at the clinic for a routine ultrasound. We went every two weeks to check the growth of our identical twin boys. My husband had finished coaching morning workouts and would leave for 7-on-7 football after our appointment. Unexpectedly, the ultrasound technician could not find Baby A’s heartbeat. I was …
I don’t know about you, but I hate the saying, “We interrupt this marriage to bring you football season.” I would agree that it is hard, and you have to adapt and make sacrifices and there is never enough time in the day. But I also think there are ways to make the season sweeter …
When I walk out of my room, the bright light stings my eyes. Mom asks why I’m up so early but she already knows the answer. It’s Friday. I’m too excited to sleep on Game Days. “Like father, like son,” Mom says. She gets me. I love Fridays.
Note to the Reader: To read the first part of Crystal’s story read I Married a Black Coach; This is My Story As coach wives, we support our Coach through the plethora of emotions that come along with coaching. We listen when he comes home at an ungodly hour venting about a frustrating practice. We …
One day, I will look back at this. I will reminisce with my husband about the days we are living right now.
Now, I laugh at the mention of an “off-season,” I add two hours on when coach says he will be home in fifteen, and I relish the challenge of attempting anything I’ve never tried before.
After wrestling with these lies in increasing measure over the course of these changing seasons, I’ve finally heard the truth so clearly: this is a season. This is a season, and I am still serving, still supporting, just in a very different capacity.
Two days a week when I kiss my husband good-bye in the morning, I say three words. In the midst of twins, backpacks, lunch boxes, school papers and jackets, I say these words. As he tries to go get out of the house on time directing my twin girls out the door, I say these words.
