Now let me tell you, that kind of record is im.press.ive! If you're a momma, you know that tiny human consumes every second of your time in those first days, weeks, months. They eat every 2-3 hours and in my case, she takes an hour to eat, so now all the sudden I'm down to like what, 6 minutes between feedings! On top of that, I strictly pump. I did it with our first too. It's this anxiety of needing to know how much they're eating that drives me to this insanity. So those six minutes? Surrendered to the evil black bag sucking the life out of me.
Anyway...that kind of ish happening around here means I'm planning out our game days from the moment she wakes up...she eats now which means she'll eat again at 10 am, 1 pm, 4 pm...oh, good, just in time for the game. Packing entertainment and snacks out the wazoo for the tornado, milk, a bottle, a thermos, extra clothes, you know, the suitcase full of things no human that small should need!
We arrive an hour late and I catch about an inning and a half in between feeding, burping, and keeping an eye on the flash of blonde running a muck.
But we're there. Coach sees us in the crowd; baby girl gets kisses and a few precious moments in her daddy's day, and a certain little boy gets to drag the field with his hero after the game.
All this to say that these past two weekends have been spent on the ball field at an entirely new level. All day. Driving to Denver, playing a game or two, pumping between innings in my car, packing our entire lives into our wagon so we could chase a State Championship. And for the first time in the five years Coach has been at it, I cried after today's loss.
I'm not one to hang in the moment. I mean come on, there are things to do - kids to get rounded up, blankets and umbrellas and coolers to pack up, miles to drive, mouths to feed. Better luck next time; gotta go.
But not this time. This time as the umpire rang up that last out and we closed the book on another season - making it further than this high school has ever seen - I cried. In all the chaos, I hadn't realized how invested I'd become. I felt like this was just as much mine to lose as it was Coach's. The thought of not getting to see some of our seniors again and knowing they just took their last at bat pierced me. When any other time I would have been secretly thankful for the "day off" tomorrow, I wanted more than anything to be home tonight prepping food and packing the car again for another long day at the field.
It's funny. I've "played this part" as Coach's Wife, started the blog, found a community, and have thought all along that I owned this role. But I realized that until today, I was just going through the motions. My heart broke for those boys and without even knowing it, this all became part of who I am, not just a title I hold.