Don’t Talk to Me About My Husband, Please

football_closeup-1024x682I work at a retail store that supports the school that my husband coaches for. We get an influx of donations every day. It is not uncommon for me to know the donors. Many of their children attend the school. Many of them know me. Some know me well, some know me too well.

To say my husband is passionate on the football sidelines is probably, somehow, an understatement. He is loud. He turns his hat backwards when talking to an umpire about a call, good or bad. He says many things that are meant for motivation. He knows how each child is motivated athletically, and treats them accordingly. He cares for the boys that play for him.

In the past (at the Collegiate level), it was common for him to be the only male role model for the boys that played for him. Some of them never had a person at their games. We were their people, my husband and I. I have accepted roses on Senior Day because there was no one else. If a player had a problem, they spoke to the coach about it- whether the issue was with the coach or completely unrelated.

Now, we are at the High School level. Things have certainly changed. Not in a bad way, it is simply different. Most of the players come from very supportive families. They have several male role models. Some of them tell my husband significantly more than they would say to their parents. When a few of them have a problem, they generally speak with their parents. Then their parents speak with the coach- whether the issue is with the coach or completely unrelated. Each player has a different relationship with my husband.

None of the above is a problem. It is all great communication. Either way, he has lot on his shoulders. He has worries and concerns for so many kids.

Sometimes people visit me at the store. Maybe their intention is to come talk to me. Maybe they just decided to on a whim. Neither is an issue, except when they decide to talk to me about something related to my coach husband. Maybe he was disciplined his players in a way they didn’t like. Maybe he said something on the sideline that they didn’t like. Maybe he isn’t playing their son as much as they would like. I get it, my husband is a coach.

If they are coming to me to get advice on how to present an issue with him, I will assist them. I don’t want or need details. If they want to discuss an actual issue, I won’t speak to them about it. I just won’t. In any other profession, it would be unacceptable.

It has also come to my attention that because I now have a son, we can throw him into the conversation to make me understand more easily the point that is being made. Again, please don’t speak to me about it. We are and will be different parents for two reasons. 1.) It is life. All parents are different. Therefore, it is highly unlikely that we will parent exactly the same. 2.) I am married to a coach. It is likely, that I will take the coach’s side, within reason, when it comes to sports. Children have a tendency to come home with half-truths about things that are said, how hard they work at practice and how hard their teammate that just took their starting spot at works practice.

I love all of my husband’s current and former players. There is a deeply special place in my heart for them that they are incapable of understanding. The same goes for current and former players’ parents. I mean this with ultimate respect and kindness – Please, Don’t Talk to Me About My Husband! It puts me in a very uncomfortable position, and I don’t like it.

[Photo Credit: Sanders on Sports]

I Didn’t Want a Boy

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First of all, after years of not conceiving and an uncertain diagnosis of PCOS, I was elated to be pregnant!  I truly thought it would never happen.

I assumed it would be a girl. Girls are dominant in my family, and Chris’ family is pretty even. He is a man and a coach so naturally his primal desire is to have a boy.

In the beginning, I did not care what gender our baby would be. In fact, I didn’t want to know until it was born.

Then, I was reminded of a conversation I had a few years ago with another coach’s wife. She was having a boy. She was worried about the expectations of a coach’s son. She was panicked about him being pushed too far to excel in sports. “Will my husband have time to help raise a boy?” She asked. “Boys need their fathers and he is gone a lot.”  I talked to her about how great a role model he will be because of the career he has chosen. I told her that he would be there more than she thought.

The moment I remembered this conversation, I felt an impending doom. I suddenly began to care what gender our child would be. I didn’t share that with anyone, except for that coach’s wife, and another dear friend. I began hoping for a girl. I thought I would be more competent to take care of a girl. People would ask what I thought I was having and I would reply, “Probably a boy,” in hopes that it would be a girl. I felt the first kick, and knew it was a boy. You can call it mother’s intuition.

A few weeks later, on Valentine’s Day, we went for an ultrasound. We asked the technician not to reveal the sex, she tried her best. When we saw the doctor afterwards, he said, “It’s hard for me to know and not tell you.” Again, primal instinct. He was excited because he knew my coach husband was having a boy.  At least, that’s what I presumed. We went on a date, arrived at home, and decided to have a private reveal party- just the two of us.  We watched the ultrasound; head, hand, foot, and penis. My husband teared up (primal, sort of). I shrugged and said, “I told you so.”

You see, I remembered everything about that conversation, except what I said to her. Everything I said was right. I called her to tell her we were having a boy, and express to her how terrified I was. She reminded me of what I said, and started telling me how awesome it is to have a son. She told me; he is funny, he is messy, he never stops, and he LOVES his momma. Everything she said was right. It was exactly what I needed to hear. Well, that and this verse, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”  Phil 4:6-7

Now, it seems trivial to me to have been so worried about having a boy. I was anxious about something so far into the future. I was scared that Chris wouldn’t have his heart in mind (this might be the craziest thing I was fearful of). I am embarrassed to have been so worried. I am fascinated by him. I have the honor of raising a gentleman. I get to prepare him to love the Lord. Nothing compares to his hugs, kisses, and cuddles.

He is great.

He is flirty.

He is funny.

He is a mess.

He never stops.

He LOVES his momma.

His momma LOVES him.

I would be happy to have all boys.

I am horrified of braids and bows.

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