The things we do for those we love.

My husband Riley is the assistant varsity soccer coach at Southridge High School and they had their last game tonight. So being the good wife that I am,(ha) I dutifully pack up our gear for the game, knowing full well that the weather is about to take a turn for the worst, but still wanting to be there to cheer on the team and support my dear husband. As we approach Lampson stadium it begins to drizzle more and more. By the time we get our gear out of the car (raincoats, two big blankets, two umbrella's because Kendle has to have her own, snacks, water, and Kendle's favorite stuffed animal of the day which is a whole other blog in itself) it is coming down a bit harder now. No fear. We are weathered sports fan's. It could let up I tell myself. We venture up the bleachers, but then decide we had better use the bathroom before we set everything down on the wet benches and have to gather it all up to go during the game. So off we pack everything to the bathrooms, where of course Kendle insists that she doesn't need to go. But being 8 months pregnant I certainly did, so it wasn't a total waste of a trip. Ok, then back to the bleachers we go to set up our spot and make some sort of attempt to stay dry. Right off the bat Kendle gets me right in the face with one of the sharp parts of her umbrella. Fun, fun, fun. We are having a blast. Up goes my umbrella and we set one of the blankets down to sit on and the other on my lap. Kendle goes off to play with all of the other rug rats and comes back minutes later soaked from the knees down. How in the world? There are no large puddles to be seen. And all of this before the game has even started. Of course all of the other more prepared parents have dressed their kids in nice warm up pants that are staying dry. As soon as the National Anthem is finished, it's like a signal and the rain just starts dumping down hard. My daughter is running around with the hood on her raincoat completly off her head and her wet pants and I'm sitting there hunched under my umbrella with my ankles getting wet and having the baby inside me unmercifully pushing itself under my ribs over and over again. I'm trying to concentrate on the game, but it's impossible and the players are so wet themselves that they are slipping around on the wet turf. I keep thinking to myself "I'm missing American Idol for this"? I look at my soaking wet blanket and my drenched child and decide at half-time we will make a mad dash to the car and head home. And that's exactly what we did. I sheepishly gave my husband an apologetic look, knowing full well the other coaches wives were staying, but perhaps they are just a bit insane I tell myself. So another treck back to the car with armloads of our wet gear and we are on our way home at last. Two minutes from our house I hear from the back seat-"mom, I think I had an accident". It was just the icing on the cake to the most enjoyable night. The things we do for those we love.