‘Tis the Off-Season
For some of us, the off-season began as the regular season ended and for others, it begins today. No matter when one’s off-season starts, it can be chaotic for the players and their families who don’t live in the cities they play in year-round (most don’t). I’m going to do my best to share this year’s postseason experience with you. And because it was so awesome, I almost had a nervous breakdown (you decide if I’m kidding or not).
We sat around our apartment ordering take-out for every meal in some sort of delirium or shock or disbelief for how the season ended for a few days while deciding where we should go from Cincinnati. When we finally decided to go back to San Diego, Mat couldn’t get out of there fast enough (not for any reason besides that it was high time to turn the page). I spent the weekend trying to figure out how I was going to make this work. On Sunday night, I realized that nothing was going to get done if I didn’t make it seem damn near impossible (I only work well under pressure) so I bit the bullet and booked our flights for early Wednesday morning. For those next 48 hours, I don’t care who you ask, I was superwoman.
This was my first at-bat in MLB wife life of figuring out how to move our lives across the country. It sounds simple, and maybe it is but it felt more like drowning in a sea of terrible timing and 6 million decisions to me. I found myself overwhelmed while scrambling to make arrangements for every fork, animal and sock we owned in Cincinnati. It was so frustrating that I yelled, “This is ridiculous! I’m only bringing 2 pairs of freaking shoes out here next year!” (If you know me, you know that this must have been a very dark period in my mental state because that is absolutely absurd).
First, I had to sort our belongings into destination piles. I was working with the following six: stay in Cincinnati until next season, ship to San Diego, pack in the car to ship to San Diego, put in suitcases to check on the plane, find a new owner and when the hell did I buy this slash why do we own a freaking fushigi? (google it and ask yourself how I was supposed to make a responsible, adult choice on that one).
In the meantime, I scheduled last minute doctor, dentist and vet appointments. I had to be sure I could get a health certificate for Cat to travel before booking his flight that had to be booked 24 hours in advance but also scheduled for the following day (what did I even just say?). Then there was the figuring out the perfect timing to be without a car for about a week while it’s picked up and shipped off. Did I have everything I needed at our apartment to effectively pack? What if we needed more boxes? What if I forgot packaging tape? What if I needed more bubble wrap? What if my head falls off?
They say don’t sweat the petty things and don’t pet the sweaty things but getting all of those details in line and our things packed up really made me need a 24 hour massage. Do I sound like a whiner yet? If not, you should get your glasses checked and then read again. You may be an organized moving-master but I am not quite there yet. Sorry.
Anyway, by the time we made it back to San Diego, I felt like a zombie, had been traveling for 7 hours and it was 248942 degrees outside. The fun wasn’t over… we were going to just rent a SUV at the airport because we had checked four rather voluptuous suitcases. However, we failed to remember that renting vehicles at the San Diego airport is the biggest pain in the butt in the history of hypothetical butt pains and we just weren’t up for the challenge. We ended up sweating our way into two separate cabs because you have to know when to wave your white flag and we were done. Spent. Cashed. Exhausteous maximous (that’s not really a thing but it sounds right so just go with it).
It took a few days, a few bubble baths, a few good friends and a few glasses of wine but I am happy to report that I can breathe again, Mat is back to being a happy goofball and Cat is obsessed with running up and down the stairs and teasing the dogs.
I have never been more stressed in my life as I have been over the past ten months but I have made a promise to myself and the promise is to knock that crap off. Since the trade, I have faced countless challenges that I didn’t think I could possibly handle but did. From figuring out transition logistics to the mere lonely feeling of being so far away from my loved ones, I eventually saw that I was letting the stress and anxiety of my lifestyle win for well over half of the season. It shouldn’t take finding yourself feeling like absolutely everything is out of your control to learn that it’s okay if it is but that’s what it took me. Through it all, I found a new appreciation for keeping myself humble, my priorities in order and my life simple (or as simple as possible).
Enough of the sappy nonsense.
Happy off-season to all of you.
…but don’t think you’re getting rid of me until spring training.
May our obsession with MLB trade rumors begin!