There are three of us in my marriage. I knew I’d be sharing my husband when I married him. And I also knew it wouldn’t be easy.
I get jealous sometimes. (Who am I kidding? I get jealous a lot.)
Because the third member is demanding and competitive and physical and fast. Oh, and hot — incredibly, extraordinarily hot. And then there’s all the penetration. So much penetration.
And I can’t compete with that. (Well, I could, but it’s not really me. I’m the quiet, reserved one in this marriage.)
So I support. And watch. And cheer him on. And I’ve been told that’s hot, too.
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.
But lucky for me, I love the game, too. I had worshiped it from afar nearly my entire life. I was drawn to its passion and intensity. And then I got incredibly lucky and was able to merge the two loves of my life in holy matrimony. And we’ve been happily married for the last six years. And I love it. I really, really do.
But like I said, sometimes I get jealous.
Football has its way with my husband six nights a week, five months out of every year — plus summers and even a couple of weeks in May. It steals a lot of his time … our time.
That means I don’t get many candlelit dinners and date nights in the fall. (Who am I kidding? As a family with twin boys, we don’t get many of those ANY season – but definitely not during football season.)
Because of its unforgiving nature, football can be a home-wrecker if you aren’t careful. So you have to be vigilant. And creative. And snag time whenever and wherever you can.
Spring Ball just ended for us and summer workouts are officially underway, so my husband and I will be making the most of our sweet summer nights before the season begins…
We’ll be eating cozy dinners together – as we referee our forty-pound, four-year-old twin boys while they fight over parental time and attention. Having Daddy home to help share the love (and war) every night is a blessing that I relish while it lasts. And while that may not sound very sexy to you, it is more than a tad bit sexy to me.
And we’ll be spending a lot of time in bubble baths – wrestling forty-pound, twin four-year-olds into and out of the water. Having Daddy home to help snag the slippery suckers and wrangle them into pajamas every night is a blessing that I cherish while it lasts. And while that may not sound sexy to you, it is mega-sexy to me.
And we’ll be snuggling up on the couch – with two forty-pound four-year-olds in our laps demanding four stories, complete with sound effects and hand motions. Having Daddy there to read while I administer asthma and allergy meds every night is a blessing I treasure while it lasts. And while that might not sound sexy to you, it is super sexy to me.
And we’ll be giving and receiving a whole lot of loving in bed – as we tuck two forty-pound, four-year-old boys beneath the covers and sing them lullabies. Having Daddy there to give real-life kisses instead of me giving surrogate ones every night is a blessing I hold dear while it lasts. And while that might not sound sexy to you, it is uber-sexy to me.
And we’ll be taking a couple of vacations – family ones – and by family vacations, I mean our little family will be visiting our larger, extended family (including the boys’ big sisters) during the dead weeks between now and the start of football season. Having Daddy there to help contain and entertain twin preschoolers on incredibly long cross-country road trips to see the people we love most may not sound very sexy to you, but I find it very sexy.
Now, don’t get me wrong. My coaching husband and I do find time to celebrate the two of us with … just the two of us. We do. We make time. And sometimes it’s as simple as popcorn in bed while catching up on our crime dramas and each other. And occasionally we manage to squeeze in a candle-lit date night. We even have one planned for tonight. He set it up and surprised me with it.
And I think that’s ANYBODY’S definition of sexy.
Yes, there are three of us in this relationship (plus a couple of forty-pound preschool boys). And sometimes it feels like football gets more time and attention and energy than the boys and I ever do. It is definitely demanding. And physical. And competitive. And passionate. But boy, is it HOT.
Football – and my coaching husband – they’re hot.
So, it’s always worth the work. It’s always worth the grind. As a matter of fact, it’s all about the grind — in football AND marriage. And that, my friends, is sexy.