My Western Sky

For three years, I've been planning my next tattoo, which is rather ironic because I never thought I'd get one--much less two. I even started a Pinterest board titled "Another One" to collect ideas. When my Bestie saw the name of it before glancing at the pictures, she sent me a panic text: "ARE YOU PREGNANT?" Um. NO. Tattoos tell a story. That's why I've grown to love them, which is  quite an evolution for me . As I crept closer to the end of my 30s, I realized that I wanted my tattoo to symbolize what I'd learned in this decade. That's when it came to me: Be Still... My 30s began in a blur of busy. As a wife, a mom, a teacher, I tried to juggle all of the balls--all too precious to drop. Always something to do somewhere to go someone to take care of. Toys to pick up Papers to grade Meals to prepare Clothes to wash Lessons to plan. By the time I was 32, I had everything that I ever wanted--my perfect life that I dreame

We blinked, and it's August. It's time for the excitement and anxiety to start creeping in. It's time to kiss our husbands goodbye and say, " See you in December!" It's time to become a pseudo-single mom. It's football season in Texas. As coaches' wives, we know the truth: football season never really ends. Those famed lights darken; the games stop, but off-season becomes spring football becomes 7-on-7 becomes summer conditioning camp becomes August. And here we are. Another August. We are ready. We are hopeful. We are undefeated. Everyone is undefeated in August. People think they know our world because they love Texas high school football. They see us sitting in the stands on Friday nights proudly wearing our team colors--some of us bedazzled (I don't bedazzle). They watched  Friday Night Lights  and think we are all  Tami Taylor,  who made it look so easy. (We all secretly worship her for it.) But I am not Tami Taylor. No