Reasons I Hate Wrestling

I hate wrestling…hate….it. Everything about it makes my heart race in a bad way but let me detail it out for you.

  1. Let’s start with the everyday wrestling around my house. At any given moment, all 3 of my children are either throwing something in the air and catching it in a spectacular diving fashion or wrestling with someone or something. I literally mean that they are doing one of these 2 things every minute of the day. McGee cannot walk by Silly without being tripped, tackled, or leg-swiped. When Silly walks past McGee, he is typically kicked or tripped. They used to leave Princess out of it but she no longer wishes to be left out so that is the end of that.
  2. Additional children add to the wrestling chaos in our house, in a bad way. Someone always gets “injured” or feels left out. They are very lucky that they haven’t broken anything in the house yet but I know its coming as they get bigger and the wrestling matches get more violent. Ugh.
  3. McGee is involved in a little kids wrestling program at school this winter and it is yucky. Yes, I said yucky. I have to admit that I am very impressed with the number of high school wrestlers who take the time to help teach the younger kids but I truly wish they were required to shower after varsity practice before coaching the little kids. Walking into the basement wrestling cave is like being hit with a stinky sledgehammer, right in the nose, over and over. It is a sweaty, germy, mat stench that sticks to your clothes and hair like the smoke at an 80-year-old small-town bar. The only bright spot is that I do not have to take a baby into the cess pool this year. The year that Silly wrestled, I had to take Baby Princess with me and keep swapping out little plastic toys as she dropped them on the mat and tried to put them back in her mouth. I basically juggled disgusting toys for an hour….yea.
  4. On to competitive wrestling…wait, I have to get my heart rate back down, hang on. I’m imagining my oldest nephew wrestling and it just makes my stomach hurt and my head pound. Bless his heart, he just wasn’t very good and all the boys he wrestled were big, mean brutes who would rub his cute face into the mat and pull his arms behind his back and hurt him and I really didn’t like it. I suffered through one tournament during which my family truly worried about my health and then they sent me alone to one of his meets and he broke his arm. I have to admit that while I felt awful for his pain, I was not sad to see an end to his wrestling career. Now I have another nephew wrestling and I just can’t face attending one his meets. I hope he understands that my heart just can’t take it and he’ll have to just keep me posted on his record.
  5. Have I mentioned the gross smell involved in wrestling? It is really horrible. I know that I smelled terribly after every practice in high school, and still do after each workout, but seriously, wrestlers are disgusting. Football pads are gross and stinky, baseball hats filthy, but wrestling is the only sport in which you and your opponent are rolling around, rubbing faces into the stinky mat and even stinkier boy parts. Ick.
  6. Just because I can’t resist and since she doesn’t read my blogs, I am mad at wrestling because my oldest niece won’t come visit me during the winter because she is at her boyfriend’s wrestling tournaments every Saturday. I don’t know what kind of high school girlfriend would travel all over to watch her boyfriend wrestle, because I never did….. She should definitely be visiting me instead, it is much less stinky here now that Princess is potty-trained!



I’ve heard a rumor that it has been too long since I’ve blogged. Admittedly, it is nice to feel loved and to know that you all have enjoyed my writing and I am hoping to have more time to blog in the future but this particular post is written only to avoid my sister posting embarrassing stories on Facebook.

I feel very proud that I can officially say that I work from home as a freelance writer. In high school, I wrote on all of my “What I Want to Be When I Grow Up” papers that I was either going to be the athletic trainer/sports psychologist for the Dallas Cowboys or a freelance writer. Obviously, I didn’t enjoy  anatomy or stat classes in college so I gave up the first dream (although the Cowboys could obviously use my help this season) but I am soooo happy to have realized the second.

I have been using to find work and have found a few quality jobs that I can perform in my sweatpants between putting together puzzles with Princess and starting a load of laundry. While the benefits of freelance work far outweigh the negatives, I would like to take this opportunity to complain for just one minute.

It is hard to work from home. It is difficult to balance my time when Princess is standing by my chair asking to play but I am behind on a deadline. When she is petting my arm (which drives me nuts by the way) and asking me to please read a book, I struggle to say no and continue typing. Hence the lack of blog posts so, Aunt Bell (yep, that’s your new blog name, take that!), you are asking me to ignore my daughter even more just to entertain you at work…and I have missed it and will try to do a better job.

It is hard to get motivated when General Hospital is waiting on my DVR and Princess is napping and I have a delicious book to read. Luckily, a couple of my freelance jobs have required the reading of classic literature and I get to tell the hubby to be quiet when he comes home and I am reading.

Ok, no more complaining because I get to help my kids get ready for school, pick them up after school, and not miss anything that is important to them. I get to see my husband for a few minutes in the middle of the day and don’t have to shower or get dressed if I don’t want to. Although I do find it hard to work if I haven’t showered or am wearing sweats so I do usually get at least a little bit put together…

Now, one quick funny about each kid:

Silly: He has been writing a lot of stories lately (love it!!) and recently asked if he could type them on the computer. He gets very angry when his words are underlined in red and constantly accuses the computer of being wrong. I laugh while he types because he looks just like Grandpa with his one-finger hunting and pecking.

McGee: Santa called our house last week and he was listening to Silly visit with him. When it was his turn to talk, Santa asked if he knew who he was talking to. McGee immediately yelled, “Yep, Grandpa!” It took both Silly and Santa to convince him that he wasn’t talking to Grandpa but he still needed to call Grandpa later to make sure. I should also mention that Drew calls Grandpa at least 3 times a week because he “just misses Grandpa.”

Princess: During her visit with Santa, she felt the need to burp and did so, quite loudly. She then informed Santa about her giant burp and giggled through the rest of the conversation. She will now tell you all about her conversation with Santa in this manner, “Santa say me want Princess toys, livilia toys and bassetball. Me burped big at Santa and him laugh to me.”

Now, I do have another deadline so I should get back to work……..but I will try to blog more often if you all promise to keep reading!