I woke up in a panic, yesterday. Mind flooded with lists and calendars and ALL OF THE THINGS that need to be done before the 18th. Getting six kids back to school is not for the faint of heart.
But then I remembered the one year we had all eight troops in school together. Senior (playing football), Junior (playing volleyball), Freshman (with a season ending ACL injury the last scrimmage before regular season football), 7th grader (playing Jr. High football), 6th grader, 5th grader, 3rd grader, and Little Man starting in Kindergarten.
What. A. Year.
So maybe moving two back to college (at two different schools) and having the other six start school - all in six days - won't be so bad.
Last night we went to the parent volleyball dinner with Daughter (#5). She's a freshman. I'm not sure how that's possible. It's seems like we just started this journey with our first girl and she's now a Sophomore in college.
Football season officially starts with practice on Monday. The boys have been working out all Summer and the Coach has temporarily moved the whiteboard to the dining room to draw plays. At our house, we do many other things... but football is where it's at.
I love the game. I love my Coach. I loved watching Son (#1) play and I love watching Sons (#3 and #4) play, together. There is nothing like it.
After 21 years (is this our 22nd football season together?), I have learned to love something that means a great deal to my husband. Not just the sport, but the opportunity to influence and invest in the lives of young men. To use the game of football to teach love for the Lord, character, toughness, life skills, sportsmanship, how to lose well, how to win with grace, how to be a man. Our world needs Godly, strong, determined, men of character more than ever before.
I've written about it before so I won't do that, again.
But there's also a part of me that has to psych myself up for it. As much as we love it, as much as we enjoy it, believe in it, appreciate the lessons and the relationships and memories...
It's a lot of long school days and late Friday nights and early Saturday mornings.
It's a lot of long drives to little Oklahoma towns by myself with all of the younger kids and their friends (which I LOVE, by the way).
It's a lot of frustration, soreness, and exhaustion for my boys.
It's a tremendous amount of work for the Coach and his colleagues.
I don't mind taking care of things, chauffeuring the kids, and handling volleyball season with the girls all by myself. It's what we do.
Because for these few months, the Coach is all about the game.
As he should be.
When it's over? We will both be ready... and sad. Each year it goes faster and faster. After coaching so many other young men over the years, the Coach and I are watching our own Crusaders grow up right before our eyes. The amazing years of high school sports are such a tiny little part of life and we treasure them. We enjoy it all and are so grateful for the experience.
So I'm grateful for seasons. This one especially.
And don't worry. When it's time to cheer on my boys? I'll be ready. Maybe I'll go read that post again, just to make sure.
The school supplies might be another issue all together. Ha!
Go Big Blue!