It’s mid-season and I’m tired.
That point is here. Some years it comes sooner and some years it comes later, but make no mistake, it always comes. You know the one I’m talking about? The week where all the pre-game jitters have settled down to the point they are almost non-existent. The Friday that I’m not overly nervous and my anxiousness is for the game to be over, not to start.
That point when resentment has set in and boils in my blood with every dirty dish, load of laundry, whine from my kids, and blade of grass I see on my floor. That Friday when I catch myself sending that “Good Luck tonight, babe!” text later in the day and with less enthusiasm than in weeks past.
It’s the week where I care less about wearing school colors to the game and prepping all my game-time necessities, because I’m more consumed with how tired I am. It’s the Friday that by mid-day I’m consider skipping out on the game altogether with a “the kids don’t feel well” excuse. That would be easier after all. I could put the kids to bed on time, and maybe have that elusive “me time” I hear my other mom friends talk about.
I am going to pull it together – I must. I’m going to take a shower and cry.
I’m going to allow myself to feel this resentment, feel the annoyance of doing it “all” alone, feel the anger of having to share my husband, and watching him give up time with his own child in order to spend it with fifty others. I’m going to give myself this time to feel the anger, because it’s valid.
And when I turn off the water, I’m going to wipe away my tears. I’m going to sit in reflection of the joys the season has brought so far. The excitement on my husband’s face after a big, unexpected win. The squeal of my little boy running on the field after Daddy once the clock runs out. The text messages from players and parents on Saturday morning thanking my Coach for his hard work, believing in their child, or a thank you for his help and guidance on and off the field. And I’m going to remember that if I choose to have that “alone time” during game time – that’s ok and sometimes it’s needed – it will not come without a sting of guilt in the morning.
So, I smile because I have a front row seat to watching someone I love live out their dreams. Smile because the love of my life is changing the lives of young people each and every day. Smile because I’m a part of it (a big part) and I don’t know what I would do without my “football sons”. And smile because, yes, football season is almost over and I’ll finally have my husband back, and my children will once again have Daddy’s undivided attention.
During that season of life, tears will come again. The tears of aggravation. The aggravation of having him home…all. the. time. I’ll be ready for him to get back to the field house and on the sidelines where he has been called by a higher power to be. I’ll be relieved that first day of Spring practice.
So, if that’s you, and you’ve reached your point. It’s ok. We all do. This life is a cycle, highs and lows, wins and losses, joy and sadness; take them all in. Allow yourself to feel each one and don’t hide your feelings. Take it in stride, process it, then move on from it; because you’ve got a game to get to and your coach and those boys need you in the stands cheering for their victory. That victory after all, includes you.