Whenever I tell people how old the twins are, I usually hear a response along the lines of "already? I can't believe they are already that old, it's going so fast!"

My response is usually along the lines of "nope, it feels like they should be that old to me."  

I can't even hardly remember what all has happened in the last 9 months.  It's weird to think it was ONLY 9 months ago that I was sitting at Blake's little league game, timing my contractions, trying to decide if I was going to have to make the call to my OBGyn when we got home from his game.  It's hard to believe it's only been 9 months that we've been a family of 5.  


About a month ago, I was at a birthday party for a friend of Blake's at a gym.  I sat with the twins in the stroller on the side watching Blake run around with his little friends, and chatted with some of my neighbors.  While I was sitting there, this older man walked up and just looked at the girls.  He wasn't trying to bother me, just wanted to know how old they were.  I think they were almost 8 months at the time.  When he heard how old they were, he responded by telling me I was doing a great job, and then he said something so sweet:

"I know the days are long right now, really long, but I promise the years are going to be short."

It's stuck with me.  When I have long days, I think about what he says.  I think about how Blake has gone from as small as his sisters to a 4 1/2 year old in the blink of an eye.  

I've had a lot of long days lately.  As I posted before, I recently had to increase my dosage on my postpartum depression medication.  When I did that and told my family it was happening, my sister and her fiancĂ© and my mom and dad all dropped everything to lend me a helping hand.  My mom stayed with me for a week.  She let me sleep in every morning as I was getting up with the girls at night.  She let me nap if I needed it (a common side effect to increasing a dose on my particular depression medication is needing to sleep a lot).  Little by little my exhaustion was finally going away.


By the time my mom left town with my dad to head back home, I was pretty refreshed.  I can't begin to tell you the necessity of having family to back you up, not only as a parent, but also in baseball.  Being a baseball wife is a lonely job.  Many don't see that.  They see the cars, the money, the big league games, and the sparkle.  But there's another side.  The side for those of us that hold together families while our husbands bus around.  The side that has seen many more minor league seasons than major league seasons.  Many of us are being a huge support system for these men.  Without the support of my mom, my dad, my sister, and my friends, I wouldn't be able to be the wife I am to Elliot.

We are ready to embark on this home stretch of the first year with twins.  There is a light at the end of the tunnel, and we are ready to get to birthday celebrations for the girls and Blake this offseason.  


The Baseball Wife


2 Comments

  1. Keep hanging in there mama!! I don't have kids yet, but I can understand what you are going through in the lifestyle!!

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  2. Beautiful written! I write a blog about ' the Story of a soccer wife'. And yes it can be a lonely job... Stay strong and know you're never alone.

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