My husband was already on US time because of all the online poker he had been playing since hockey ended so he was basically useless. I shit you not, I even got his equipment from the locker room for him. Seriously.
I walked into the room, looked at his stall and thought, "Shit, how am I going to get all of this crap home? Oh my God, I was supposed to bring a hockey bag with me wasn't I?" His teammates didn't even know what to say. I don't think anyone has ever laughed so hard at me in my life. I felt like such an idiot.
I headed back to our apartment, grabbed a hockey bag from our storage closet, flipped my husband the bird as he slept peacefully in our bed, and went back to the rink.
I have never met anyone who hoards so much crap. Ever. Old tape balls, garbage, old food, chew tins, old spitters. Disgusting. I only left one thing behind: I love my husband but there was no way in hell that I was touching that raunchy old jock. He'll just have to get a new one of those.
I left that stall cleaner than it's likely ever been, and drove home with the windows down.
Everything else was pretty easy because, well, we knew we'd be coming back.
Yep, we re-signed!
I wanted to tell you back in January or February, when it all happened, but I was sworn to secrecy. Hockey teams love their dramatic announcements, you know?
My husband had a great season so we considered waiting it out to see if anything bigger or better might come along later on, but it was just a brief consideration. For us, living and playing in Europe isn't about making the most money or playing for the best team. It's about the experience; the time we have together as a family, the opportunity to see the world, and the amazing people we meet along the way. As cool is it could be to live in a new city, or as nice as it would be to make a little more money, those things aren't worth what we'd be giving up by leaving.
A team that treats us well and always pays. A great apartment. A wonderfully loving and accommodating kindergarten. A group of girls I adore. Stability. Consistency. For us and for Linden. And if you ask me, one of the best parts of re-signing is a stress-free (and agent-free) summer. Woo hoo!
So we signed out of the city, I packed what we would need for the summer, gave the apartment a good once-over with the vacuum and duster, took out the trash, emptied the refrigerator, turned off the heat and the lights, and we headed for the airport.
We made it home. Safe and sound. Twelve-hour layover in Philly and all!
The hubs made it through customs without a problem. I was slightly nervous because he usually gets the third degree, and it didn't help that he and Linden were sporting matching Pittsburgh Pirates hats. I lost count of all the times passersby harassed him for that! But we lucked out and got a young, hockey-loving customs agent. He asked my husband what he did for a living and the minute he replied, "I play hockey", I knew we were golden.
So, it's been about three weeks and we finally feel settled.
Stay tuned, more exciting news on the way ...