I openly admit on this blog that I #MomFail all the time. On a regular basis. But there is one time of year when I #MomFail the most.
Yes, I have an entire season where my #MomFail reaches a new high. Where I wonder if I am totally losing my shit. Where my kid constantly looks dirtier than usual. Where hot dogs and fast food become regular diet staples.
And that season starts today.
Today is the first official day of high school baseball season. Actually, it is tryout day. So from now through the end of May/early June, I will see my husband approximately seven hours a week. He is the head coach a local baseball team.
There are a lot of great things about my husband being a coach. I get to watch him do what he loves. I love going to games and so does our two-year-old. I get to watch trashy reality television pretty much any time I want because he is never home to complain about it.
But this year might be a little more difficult than normal. I have adapted to baseball season with a toddler pretty well. But this will be my first season with a toddler and being very pregnant with baby #2. Luckily, I have a great support system in my mom and Logan’s parents. I for sure wouldn’t make it through without their help.
I played a couple sports in high school, rather unsuccessfully. But until Logan started coaching, I never realized how time consuming it is for coaches. They put so much time and effort and heart into coaching these teenagers. I am so proud of Logan and I can’t wait to see all the great things his team accomplishes this year.
That being said, being the wife of a coach isn’t easy. I have read blogs from other coach’s wives. They talk about how hard it is but that they always manage to always get dinner on the table and stay up until their husbands get home from a late game to talk to them about their day.
Call me a shitty wife and mother, but where do these women get their energy? Can I have some? I try to stay awake but Logan gets home late. And being pregnant and taking care of a toddler alone is not easy and I’m usually exhausted.
Poor Henry literally lives off of hot dogs, pickles, bottled water and those sugar suckers on a stick during baseball. One of his first words was hot dog. I will pick him up at the sitter a little after 5 pm and we will head to the field. He is always met with hellos and excitement from the baseball parents and their kids that aren’t playing. He gets held and played with and fed and cooed over and it is amazing. I might like it just as much as he does because that means I actually get to sit down for a few minutes.
I like to try and stay through the entire game. Sometimes that means that Henry gets to stay up past his bedtime playing in piles of dirt. Then I have to wrestle him into his car seat at 9 pm. By then I have stripped him down to his diaper because he is so filthy. We drive the entire three miles home. I will toss him in the tub, scrub the visible dirt off and get him to bed.
In addition to an extremely poor diet, Henry will also get the occasional hose bath in the backyard with the dog.
So peak #MomFail season starts today. And to be honest, i’m pretty excited. Not only does the concession stand at the ball field serves some pretty kick ass hot dogs, Henry gets a crazy amount of exercise and is usually in full exhaustion mode when we get home at night.
Yes, I will miss my husband the next four months. And I will cry a couple times because I’m tired and really pregnant and fat and ready for a break. But it’s just how my little family does life.
Until Next Time,