Five months of seeing you everyday. Five months of you being able to drop off and pick up from school when needed. Five months of meals at the dinner table together. Five months of kissing everyone goodnight. Five months of not having to answer “when is daddy going to be home?” Five months of traveling, playing until they couldn’t anymore, and all of the belly laughs you can imagine.
A week and a half ago we made the switch from quarantine life to straight football. What a slap in the face for a two year old to try and understand. Normally we are in school, then summer workouts roll around, then football. Through all of this we are able to adjust and know that Dad is gone and he will be back soon. After five months it is hard to explain why Dad isn’t here or even worse, why we can’t go to practice whenever we want.
Coaching and being a coach’s wife brings a ton of mixed emotions. Fridays are exhilarating with the sense of game day, the end of a week, and getting to see all of the hard work pay off. There is nothing like seeing the one you love doing what he loves all while sitting next to your little ones cheer and yell for dad and his team. When I said yes to the coaching life, I said yes to so many experiences. What I didn’t know was the disappointment that came with it, especially being a parent. I wasn’t prepared to console my two year old on why he can’t go to Saturday meetings, or why he can’t see his football boys.
As as I sit here and write this with tears in my eyes, I am trying to prepare myself on how I will break the news to him that he won’t get to see his Dad after the games. He won’t get to give him the after game squeeze. He won’t get to run on the field. He won’t get to see the boys and give them a fist bump (BOOM baby as KB calls them). The disappointments just continue. Not only are we adjusting to our coach being back at work, we are having to adjust to this new football life.
The adjustment is at home too. Dinner, bath, and bedtime routines are all done solo. My days start earlier because his do. That means workouts have to be done before he leaves the house, bags and lunches must be packed the night before, and he may tuck the kids in Sunday night and not see them until Wednesday afternoon, if we are lucky.
I will always ALWAYS remind myself that we are thankful that we get an opportunity for a season, but this adjustment stings just a little bit more.
