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