Today I came home to find The Schedule for The Season on the kitchen counter. I had almost forgotten that The Season would soon be upon us - The Season being Hubby's recreational softball league and The Schedule being games 2 nights a week for the next 3 months. Okay, can I confess something here? Promise not to tell Hubby? He may have an inkling about this, but I try to hide the depth of my feelings. I dread The Season. Yes, I 100% dread it.
I didn't always feel this way. Back before we had kids, softball was no big deal. On game nights I would work late or relax at home by myself or go to the games to cheer him on. But now? Well, kids change all of that!
It wouldn't be so bad if the games were only one night a week or on Saturday afternoons, or if Hubby wasn't the captain so he didn't feel a responsibility to be at every.single.game. I don't mind fall softball, which is much less intense and doesn't totally change our evening routine. It wouldn't be so bad if the boys were old enough we could all go to the game to cheer Hubby on, rather than me chasing them off the field so they don't get whacked upside the head by a stray ball. It wouldn't be so bad if the games weren't smack dab in the middle of dinner and/or bedtime for 25% of the year. The thing I dread most about The Season are the nights I have to put both boys to bed myself, which I still have not mastered.
The thing is, I don't begrudge Hubby his me-time. And I would never push him not to play softball. He loves sports and I know that this is something he needs. He needs to be active. He needs a little escape. He needs to feel like his pre-kids self hasn't totally disappeared. I completely understand that. He is an awesome father and husband, and he definitely carries his weight at home. He cooks, he cleans, he mows, he parents. And, by playing sports, he is setting a great example for our boys of being active and healthy. That is why, as much as I dread The Season, I try not to show it. At least, not too much. I mean, as far as Life's Problems go, I realize that this one is pretty minor. But I'd still like a moment to wallow, please.
In theory, The Schedule should give me a guilt-free pass for plenty of me-time. That isn't quite how it works out, though. I just end up feeling bad that my time away - for yoga or dinner with girlfriends or whatever - means even fewer evenings together (at least during The Season). This is probably a great reason to get back to our Monday-night sitter routine, which fell by the wayside over the winter. If we get a sitter to come on a softball night, Hubby and I could get our me-time at the same time.
Maybe I'm letting history dictate how I feel about The Season rather than stepping back and figuring out ways to handle it. With kids, the dynamics are always changing. Maybe this year The Season will be easier. Glass half full, right?
Does your partner have regular me-time? How do you feel about it?
Softball photo by ColumbiaLifeChurch via Creative Commons. Some rights reserved.