FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS (and Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, too)

I'm crushing on Coach and Tami Taylor, y'all. 

We are in the midst of an epic Friday Night Lights binge, and I find myself wishing we could go on a double date with these two love birds.

I see some of my marriage in their marriage, and I like how it looks when I'm a spectator.


We've had so many people tell us this was a series we would enjoy, but we never got around to it. 

Then a doomed March break came along, and the stars (or lights, as it were) aligned. 

Although we didn't have big plans, we had some plans. We'd be heading up north to meet our siblings and their kids for a couple of days of toboganning, movie watching, and family dinners. 

Then the fevers, coughing, shivering and overall misery descended.

And here's the thing—I can be self-centred and stubborn sometimes.

I got mad.

Allow me to channel my inner Tami Taylor when I tell you, 

I'm not proud, but it is what it is and that's what I was feeling. 

After a particularly long couple of days of doling out EVERYTHING THAT EVERYONE NEEDED—while JB struggled to move from the bed to the couch and back to the bed again—I declared my own need for some alone time and snuck upstairs with the family iPad.

I had read a blog post about March break and binge watching that morning and decided to gift myself a good Netflix session. I remembered all the Friday Night Lights suggestions from the past and decided to watched the pilot. 

If I had to say what I think lives at the heart of my marriage, it's that we accept and forgive each other's shortcomings. But we never do that at the cost of letting the other get away with being unfair or ugly. 

And it's not because either of us feels the need to be more right or prove a point. It's because we are committed to making sure we never lose sight of what matters. And we've learned the hard way that there will be many times in our relationship when one of us sees that better than the other.

Through two days of my sulking and pouting, JB didn't say a word about my behaviour. But I'll tell you what else he didn't do. He didn't let me get away with it. He did not bend himself to soothe my flaring temper.

He gave me the time and space to wrestle with it on my own, so I could pin it down and walk away, like he knew I would.

It's been a long winter and we've scaled some hurdles over the past few months. I would have loved to go on some kind of leave-it-all-behind adventure, instead of staying home. When our close-to-home getaway fell through, I took it out on him.

He understood there was a part of me that felt frustrated we weren't packing our family up to head somewhere sunny and warm. That makes me sound selfish, I know it does. And JB's refusal to apologize for our predicament told me he thought so, too. 

After I finished the pilot, I went downstairs, found JB and told him he needed to watch it so we continue the series together. He knew if I liked it, he would too. And, of course, he had already forgiven me before I had a chance to ask. 

It's been three more days and fifteen episodes. And if you know Coach and Tami Taylor, then you know I've shed tears watching them point each other towards their best: without judgement and always with forgiveness.



Clear eyes. Full hearts. Can't lose.