Wake Me When It's Over

We are officially into baseball season. While Richie is gearing up and excited to begin playing, the rest of us are adjusting to not having him around. And I gain my annual role of the baseball widow. A role I do not covet. Hence, the slowing down of blog posts. And the glazed over look in my eyes. Here's little peek into what it's like.

He's gone throughout much of the year, but spring is basically when our home becomes his hotel. On practice nights he checks in about 7:30-8:00 pm and on game nights it fluctuates but on average around midnight. He checks out before most of the house is moving in the mornings. There are many weeks that the kids do not see him except on the weekends. (His Saturdays are usually free after March.)

Can I admit that I am already exhausted? And with three months to go, that is not a good sign. Soon I will begin my yearly correspondence with him through e-mail. Seeking his opinion on various matters, ranging from insignificant to serious. Keeping life moving while his focus is on building a winning team.

I always think of military families during this time. What my family goes through is nothing compared to what they endure. So, if any military wife ever reads this, thank you. Thank you for your sacrifice. Thank you for helping protect my family. I do not take your hardships lightly. And the same could be said for those families spreading the Gospel. Thank you.

In the meantime, I fight my bad attitude, chasing away thoughts of a life not dictated by sports, and trying not to whine (not scoring real well, am I?). Trying to drum up support for my husband in my heart while dreaming about a nap... A nap and an hour of quiet. An hour...or two...or five. *grin* How about you just wake me when it's over, would you?