When I put up the 2021 calendar, I craved the normal. I hopefully added remaining basketball games and projected track meet dates. In pencil, I wrote in gymnastics meets and volleyball games. I tentatively scribbled in some vacation possibilities with fingers crossed. I wanted our usual back and yet, I knew, I would eventually yearn for the unusual.
We put our worth in what we do, our accomplishments, and the success of our commitments, instead of the things that actually matter. When we do this, we begin to miss what life is actually about and where true value comes from. We worship being busy, and eventually that will come to haunt us in one way or another.
What I love about “new team, new routine” is that it eliminates the obligation to do something based on the rationale that it’s a tradition. It gives me time to re-evaluate my coach’s wife resume as well as permission to determine the best path forward for our family in the year ahead.
I coined a term several years back; I’m not proud to say that the phrase “mid-season meltdown” came about because I noticed for myself that every October I hit a wall. A point of no return would reveal itself again where I just couldn’t tolerate one more team dinner, or one more date night that ended with watching film, or one more night feeling that all my hard work keeping the house organized was about the blow up by 10 am the next morning.
You see, my husband is a high school football coach, and he’s been married to the game for a really, really, long time. They were a thing long before he and I were a thing. And when we started dating, I had to come to terms with the rules of engagement.