Working Mother Football Fatigue

Titans Family Pic

have two sons, two rescue dogs and a husband.  I am the only living thing producing estrogen in my house.  Up until recently I had managed to keep the hormonal balance pretty even—or so I thought.  My illusion came crashing down around me two years ago when I showed my son a picture of a football player. My then eight-year-old asked if he was on a tennis team.  I repeat, a tennis team.  I called my husband in tears, sobbing that I was failing as a mother of boys and we needed to get the football package from Direct TV.  To which he responded that we had it for the last three years.  Epic.  Mommy.  Failure.

Unfortunately neither of my sons is the artsy type; no interest in theater, dance or painting.  So to atone for my sins I’ve spent the last two years living, eating, and breathing all things sports.  We all have our crosses to bear.  The funny thing is that I always had perceived of myself as fairly knowledgeable about sports.  Now I realize, I was in essence a huge faker.  I would glean insight from people in my life who cared about sports and use that soundbite wisdom to sound as if I was sports-educated.  I was not.  I’m now making up for it by having to watch every single football game with my family.  God help me.

I’ve been laughingly told that it’s not that bad, football season is only sixteen weeks long.  Take my advice and never say this to a woman living in a house full of men.  It may cause her to create a voodoo doll in your likeness.  Just sayin.

An unfortunate side effect of all this force fed football is that I literally have given up. I’m like a detainee at Gitmo.  What do I need to do to make this all end?   The old me used to care who won playoff games and the Super Bowl was for partying with friends and celebrating together.  I remember when I used to care. But this year, even though I have two teams I really should care about in contention (raised in Boston so go Pats and live in Arizona so go Cards) I literally just want it to be over.  I’d even be okay if (gasp) the Seahawks won.  Come on, give me a break—it’s not like I’m rooting for the any of the New York teams – this Boston girl hasn’t been that beaten down yet.

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