After the first twenty minutes, however, I began to question whether it was Travis or I who was doing the most coaching . . . "girls, sit still" . . . "girls, don't lay on the dirty floor" . . . "Haley, please stop climbing on me". . . "Hannah, please stop poking your sister" . . . "girls, please just watch the game" . . . "no, we can't get another drink of water" . . . "not you don't need to go potty - you just went" . . .
Later at home, as I was debriefing the game with Travis and congratulating him on a job well done forming these young men in how to play and live with class, I realized it wasn't such a far off definition for my job as a stay-at-home mom . . . I'm a coach too . . . for back to back seasons . . . for the rest of my life . . . now if only I could find my whistle . . .