18 September 2009

On my own

I think I hold the world record for nagging phone calls that consist of “Wheeeeennnn are you going to be hooooommmmeeee???” I know my husband rues the day that he told me it was ok to add the unlimited texting feature on my cell phone, mostly due to my many Completely Necessary and Super Important texts that read: where r u? what do u want 4 dnr? Do u still luv me? Did u c Jay Leno last night?

Or maybe it’s because I like to text him pictures of the dogs in all their various stances of cuteness.

Back when I first didn’t realize what it meant to be a coach’s wife, I took it as a personal insult that my husband wouldn’t be home on Saturdays (never mind that there was a tournament), if we couldn’t go out on a date on Friday nights like we did in college or if I had to attend a wedding or a family function by my self. (Gasp! By myself? Horror of horrors!!)

Which brings up another point.

If your husband is a coach, never ever schedule a vacation, a wedding, a birth or a funeral during the season if you want him to attend. Our wedding was the week of Thanksgiving, barely squeezed in between softball and basketball seasons. As luck would have it, my birthday falls during that same week, making it that much easier for him to celebrate everything at once. See how accommodating I am?

It took me a while to understand that as a coach’s wife, I’ve got to be realistic. I have to understand that there are literally dozens of people who rely on him every day – from kids to parents to his co-workers and school administration. If he doesn’t have the support at home to go and do his job, there’s a chance he could fail miserably. If he has a bad day at school, at practice or at a game, he’s not going to want to come home to a house that’s full of nagging and “But sweetie, I’ve told you five gazillion times to take out the trash!!”

If I can’t take out the trash, change a light bulb or squash a bug without the help of a man, there’s something seriously wrong. (Except for the last part. I’ve been known to trap spiders and wait for him to come home and kill them. Freaky!!)

Bottom line, I want him to be able to come home to a sanctuary. A place of rest. And lovin’s.

That means finding creative ways to keep yourself busy when you’re home alone, and most importantly, being content with your fill-in-the-blank season widowhood. Baseball, basketball, whatever - that season will pass!

My suggestions for things to keep busy include training for marathons, volunteering at local animal shelters, working on another degree and flying to see your baby sister in Texas a couple times a year for some mega-sister-shopping-and-gossiping-time.

And rearranging the furniture. It's awfully hilarious to hear your husband come home in the dark and not know where the recliner is.

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