Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Pit crew

I have two things occupying my brain matter at the moment. Both of them are quite reflective. The first of course is the birth of junior Beeso. The other is my first real head coaching job, coaching an A grade club side in the top Brisbane touch competition. But here's the thing, I'm a bit of a doer and the mind space of both these things is a bit like being pit crew for an F1 team. You are important, even vital, but you're not driving the car.

Last week at the midwife meeting I was struck by how little there is I can do other than move furniture around, keep the house clean and stay very, very calm. I'm loving the process so far, aided by the fact The Wife is doing this the cliched football way, one week at a time, not looking to much to the finals. It's meant I can just roll along, enjoying the discoveries as they come, like the 20 week scan and finding out the sex of the baby.

The footy thing I can drive a little bit more, but as I found out Friday night, as much as I train them, work on teams and game plans and positions and tactics, I can't actually run out there and change things. I've always been a player, only recently started coaching through a rep assistants job and Friday was a big wake up call. I spent hours after lying in the dark, trying to figure out how to do things better.

When I go on my road runs, I spend the long boring minutes thinking away about football and babies and tactics and cuddles and sub rotations and wondering how old a kid has to be before it can milk a cow.

The important things pit crew have to think about.

- Lantanaland from my iPad



  1. Pit crew probably isn't a bad analogy. But remember this, because it's very important:

    No matter how much pain your beloved goes through during the birth process, you can't do anything about it. More: afterwards (and I mean within minutes afterwards) she will actually forget just how traumatic the whole thing was.

    You, however, will not.

    My wife tells me this is some kind of pro-survival adaptation to allow women to have more than one kid. I regard it as Unholy Black Magic. But what it comes down to is that you are going to be fairly stunned and traumatised for 24 hours or so after the birth.

    They keep mum and bub in hospital for observation for that period. I strongly suggest that as Pit Crew, you make some very real, very serious preparations for looking after yourself in that time. In fact, if you can appoint a really, really good friend to come over, make sure you get fed, pour booze down your neck and watch a few trashy movies with you (hey, it worked for me, right?) you will be much the better for it.

    Even Pit Crews get looked after during an F1 season. Don't forget that.

  2. I feel so very lucky to have such a supportive hubby.

    Flinthart, thanks for your astute insight. I was wondering about the use of the word ‘crew’ myself. In my first midwife meeting I was asked “Who is your support team?”. Instinctively, I thought well John is my support but who is going to keep him calm/support him (because without him….). Will the random midwife be adequate for ‘us’ or should we consider additional support and if so who? It’s something that has been ‘occupying my brain matter’ and Flinty you have given me an important perspective about not just birth but afterwards.

    So much for ‘one week at a time’! I guess every good footballer lives in the moment while simultaneously having they eye on the prize.