Meanwhile at the Coach's house. . .

This morning we had a rare moment.  The Coach and I were both awake and still in bed.  At the same time.  I know, right?  He usually gets up at 5.  And I . . . don't.  Get up at 5.  Ugh.

As I came to consciousness and realized he was STILL THERE, I rolled over and noticed he was staring at the ceiling.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked him.

"How to stop Davis."  He answered.  (Our opponent for this week's football game, of course.)

Almost like, "Duh.  What else would I be thinking about?"  And honestly if I hadn't just been waking up, I wouldn't have even asked.  Only half asleep would I wonder what he's thinking about.

I get it.  I do.

After 19 years and fewer trips to the 2nd week of playoffs, it's a big deal.

Most people probably realize that being married to a football coach requires a lot of time in the practice and game sense.

What they may not realize is that during football season, my precious man eats, sleeps, and breathes football.  He watches film, diagrams plays, jots notes on film, the laptop, his ipad, and countless sheets of paper.

He gets up at five everyday to watch more film.  Even on Saturday.

Even when we don't get home from games until midnight.  He's up and back at it 5 hours later.

I'm not complaining.

I'm tired, but I'm not complaining.

I've grown to love football, too.  I've managed to become a screaming, jumping, crazy, maniacal fan in the four years MY boy has been out there playing with the Varsity.  I'm the embarrassment of the Coach's family - all who sit calmly no matter what the bad call or interception or last minute hail mary pass for a touchdown. And yes, it's OK if they act like I'm not related.

But when preparing for the week's game IS our life here at the troops. . . it's a big deal.

Of course my preparations are different.  I'm thinking who is riding with us to the game (one time I accidentally ended up with more kids than seats - oops!)?  How far away is it and how early do we need to leave?  Will we eat dinner before we leave or on the way?  Do I have directions or an address and have I saved them on my phone (sometimes you just have to find the right highway exit and look for the lights!)  Do I have enough cash to get umpteen kids into the game and are the stadium seats and blankets in the van from last week?  Will everyone need hats/gloves/coats?  Will the Coach be able to ride home with us or will he be taking the bus back to school (This is huge because it means I either have help putting the kids to bed at 11:30. . . or I don't.)?

So you can see it's what we do.  And it's a lot of work for my man.  And our troops.

It's a lot of fun, too.

And although I'm eversograteful for the character it's developed in my husband and sons (with many more years to come, Lord willing), it's great fun to win, too.

I'm pretty sure my character has grown in a negative sense.  As I may or may not have screamed "ARE YOU KIDDING ME???" at a call or two last Friday.

I'm not proud of this, of course.

But I sure am proud of my Crusaders.

GO BIG BLUE!

(Here's to hoping that basketball season leaves more time for writing?  HA!)

Reaching new lows. . . every single day.

Some weeks I'm not sure how we keep on keeping on over here.  I know we have soverymuch to be grateful for.  And I am.  But OH the mess and OH the drama of . . . well. . . I guess that would be human beings.  I may have eight kids, but I'm sure your kids have drama, too.  (Please say yes.)

Last week Little Man got sick early Monday morning.  On the carpet.  Which is fine, because here enters "handy dandy steam cleaner".  But obviously that wasn't on my agenda for the day.  Duh.  I don't really mind setting aside my "list" and snuggling with a sweet 6 year old.  But it doesn't take long to get behind.

He spent a day resting and was back at school Tuesday. Wednesday, two of the kids had eye appointments and one had piano.  And I may have baked 14 dozen cookies for our Fall Festival bake sale at school.  Thursday WAS the Fall Festival and that is some serious fun.  And I was tired.  We ended up with a group of football guys watching the OU game here, two girls spending the night, and I'm pretty sure more kids actually slept here, but who is counting (The house was a wreck so the kids just blended in.)?  Friday we were out of school.  The football guys had breakfast, one of my girlies had a birthday party, we had lunch with Granddad, and our last regular season home football game/senior night.  That was quite possibly the windiest game I've attended in 19 years.  The fact that it was miserable weather made it easier to not get emotional about my first-born graduating from high school, though.  So there's that.

Saturday, Granddad came to help Son (#3) built a hen house (it's getting colder) and the three little girls had basketball games.  Thanks to Granddad bringing bagels, everyone actually got breakfast - ha!  After the 1st game, daughter (#7) threw up all over the driveway upon arriving home.  So she was tucked in bed for the day with essential oils.  Another daughter also felt puny and spent the day resting.  The Coach and Son (#1) had film with the football team and then came home to work in the yard.  The hen house was finished, the house was cleaned up, the leaves and yard finished, and the Coach and I snuck out for a date night - in spite of it all. Which ended up being helpful in more ways than one because we were also out of milk.

Yesterday was quieter - with two home from church, Christmas movies galore on the Hallmark Channel, and lots of homework for the big kids.

But about 9:30 last night?  Another girlie started throwing up.  Right about the time I remembered that Little Man brought "Buzzy the Bee" home from school on Thursday and he was supposed to read books with him and take pictures at the places we went and fill out his "favorites".

Oh.  And he had snacks for his class this week, too.  (And no, the snack basket hadn't even made it out of the van, yet.  Sigh.)

So I not only do NOT have my act together, I've managed to reach new lows at the troops.  Poor Little Man.  Think I can get fired from "Kindergarten Mom"?  At least we didn't LOSE Buzzy (it could happen).  We just lost the Coach's phone.  But I found it.  After he left this morning.

I realize that none of this is a big deal and none of it is long-term and we really are blessed beyond my understanding.  With healthy (most of the time) kids whom we love and enjoy and who love us, too.  That's no small thing and I am grateful.  But those moments when being a mom of eight feels overwhelming?  Are becoming more and more frequent.  Just ask Buzzy.

If you need me, I'll just be hanging here with stomach virus round 3.

Happy Monday!