When I first met my partner, we hit it off in a cozy bar, celebrating the New England Patriots’ historic Super Bowl victory just months prior. As fellow Massachusetts natives living in Washington, D.C., he charmed me by boasting about his satellite dish, promising access to every Patriots and Red Sox game, no matter how far we were from home.
In those blissful pre-kid Sundays, we settled into a laid-back routine, fueled by Dunkin’ Donuts coffee in the morning and a plethora of football snacks and beers in the afternoon. Little did we know how simple our lives were. Fast forward to now, where our close friends and us have four kids among us—in just four years! The contrast between our pre-kid and post-kid football gatherings is as stark as a coach’s red challenge flag.
Pregame
Before Kids: I savored my coffee while leisurely flipping through the Sunday paper and tuning into Meet the Press. I’d pop into the fridge to ensure there was plenty of cold beer on hand.
After Kids: I chug down a massive cup of coffee to combat the effects of four overnight wake-ups. I load and unload the dishwasher, recycle the unread newspapers, and take a stroll to catch neighborhood story time. A quick trip to Costco for beer—and yogurt, blueberries, milk, baby carrots, and chicken nuggets—ensues. I rush home just half an hour before kickoff, tossing a few beers into the freezer to chill before the game starts.
Kickoff
Before Kids: I proudly donned my jersey and took my usual spot on the couch.
After Kids: I scramble to locate the kids’ jerseys, only to find them buried in last week’s laundry. After a quick sniff test, I decide they’re acceptable and dress the kids. I then set up various toys and activities, only to settle on the couch and witness a toddler tumble down the basement stairs. I frantically rig a gate to secure that area.
1st Quarter
Before Kids: I laid out a buffet of snacks on the coffee table, making it easy to graze throughout the game.
After Kids: I open a bag of tortilla chips and place it high on the laundry counter, well out of reach of toddlers or any snack-hungry game watchers. Suddenly, I remember the pizza I threw in the oven earlier and dash upstairs to save it. I quickly devour a slice while a child clings to my leg.
2nd Quarter
Before Kids: I was completely focused on the game as the clock ticked down toward halftime.
After Kids: I steal glances at the TV while retrieving crayons from a toddler’s mouth, setting up an indoor hockey game for the older kids, and mopping up mysterious spills. I groan at an interception, only to realize our team actually recovered the ball.
Halftime
Before Kids: I’d refresh drinks and snacks, maybe even take a bathroom break, while chatting casually about life.
After Kids: I pour more milk to replace the sippy cups that have mysteriously vanished during the first half—only to discover them later, fermenting under the couch. I sniff around the kids, asking, “Who pooped?” as they point fingers at each other. I spot a half-eaten piece of pepperoni that’s been placed back on the cheese tray.
3rd Quarter
Before Kids: More snacks and beer flowed, and I had a solid grasp of which team was winning.
After Kids: I dump a pile of Duplos for the toddlers and break out a case of Magna-Tiles for the preschoolers, mediating disputes over the building toys. I gulp down a warm beer while asking my partner the score for the fifteenth time and prevent toddlers from munching on the cracker crumbs scattered on the floor. The beer, forgotten on the windowsill, remains untouched.
4th Quarter
Before Kids: I watched the end of the game with bated breath, yelling at the refs for bad calls and cheering for last-minute plays.
After Kids: I intercept my toddler making a beeline for the DirecTV receiver, and I shout at the kids to stop climbing the art easel. I cheer for my own parental victories, like preventing the remaining chocolate cake from being knocked off the counter. I even allow the kids to have as much cake as they want during the two-minute warning, hoping for a few moments of actual football viewing.
Postgame
Before Kids: We’d share high-fives after a tense win.
After Kids: I get to high-five my toddler, my preschooler, and my partner. It’s a win in every sense!
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Summary
Post-kid football viewing parties are a whirlwind of chaos, laughter, and multitasking. The transition from leisurely Sundays to a frenzied experience filled with snacks, toys, and little ones can be challenging yet rewarding. We may have traded in quiet couch time for a more hectic atmosphere, but the joy of shared moments with family makes every game a win.
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