31 August 2015

Life as an AD's Wife

So I guess we're going with this post-every-two-months theme, and now I'm cutting it close on the last day of August.


We're officially moved.

House is done, boxes are unpacked, new jobs started.

I know, the same old song and dance I usually post about this time of year, on a rolling three-to-five year schedule.

You know what's amazing?

When we lived up in Hattiesburg three years ago (after Missouri, before Florida, sheesh!) we would drive down to the Mississippi coast and daydream about how fabulous it would be to live in this little cute town called Ocean Springs.

Well. Be careful what you pray for, cause look out OS, here we are!

The poor lady at the DMV, after looking at all the states I've held a driver's license, started to thank me for my husband's service to our country.

Seriously. Whenever people hear all the places we've lived, they either think 1) Military or 2) On the run from the law.

I always have to go into an hour long diatribe about how Matt was a high school baseball coach, but baseball isn't what it used to be (thanks, travel ball!) and now he's an athletic director and now we're lugging a piano halfway across the country and I can't find my towels and the dogs are carsick.

I refuse to move again.

Unless there are mountains involved. And snow. And Alaska.

Anyway, we're here. It feels kind of like we never left Mississippi. I picked up my "Yes Sir" and "Yes Ma'm" and "Y'all come back now, you hear??" like I never stopped saying it, cause in Florida they give you looks for doing that.

One thing that's fantastic is that we're so much closer to family now, and we've already had visitors. When you live in Florida, everyone says they're going to come visit you and the beach and have a great time, but it never happens, because your husband moved you basically to the outskirts of Miami and it takes a year and a half of planning for anyone to make it down that far into the state.

And Miami is scary.

Ok, I'm exaggerating. We weren't that far. But Miami is scary.

Give me my little house on the marsh. Quiet and private after crazy-busy 12 hour shifts or ball games. Just me, my husband and dogs, and the rapidly-multiplying family of nutria on the banks right out our backyard.

Oh, and the ball games? So....did you know that Athletic Directors go to WAY more games than coaches do? Remember my "I'm a sports widow, woe is me" posts during baseball season?

Please. Child's play. I had no clue.

But you know what? This is the absolute happiest I've ever seen him. He's right in his element, telling other people what to do, cause Lord knows he can't pull that with me.

Just kidding.

But not really.

Honestly, he's awesome. He's fair, he's honest, he loves the idea of running a very successful athletic program, and he's more OCD than I am. The man's a walking spreadsheet of budgets and statistics. He's in his element, and I'm so proud of him.

And I have to say it's a LOT less stressful sitting in the stands at a game as the Athletic Director's wife than it was as the coach's wife. A lot. Plus he'll smile and talk to me. Bonus.

Here's to a great start in Mississippi!

Today I love: Lots of coffee after a rough three shifts at work. Coffee with more coffee. And a side of coffee.

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