Wednesday, January 26, 2011


So I'm just gonna put it to you straight.  My boys are wrestlers and it makes me feel sick.  Literally.  I have no problem with the sport in general, although it would sound a bit TWISTED if you tried to explain to someone who didn't understand, why my boys like to put on a stretchy little suit that resembles a woman's swimsuit with legs, and roll around a mat in a stinky cafeteria or gym once a week.  I actually believe they are learning great skills for defending themselves and building strength and confidence.  My real problem is in the watching.
Just a little background here might help.  When I am selecting entertainment, like movies for example, I would never choose the ones that are dark or scary.  I don't even like some of the really intense action movies.  I watch the whole time with every muscle flexed and my jaw clenched.  I leave feeling tense and a bit exhausted, I don't want to pay money to feel that way.  And so of course my boys decide with the encouragement of my husband that this the sport they want to spend their winters playing.
They have grown up wrestling with Jeff as it was a sport he always excelled at when he was in school.  Every Sunday at some point my living room or my moms turns into a WWF scene.  The boys wrestling each other their cousins and even tag team their dad.  But it's all fun and games and no one wants anyone else to get hurt.  Outside of the house it's a different story though.
Every Friday I gear myself up to watch their meets.  Luckily, they are both quite good and rarely loose.   I  feel a nauseous pit in my stomach as I watch them shake hands with their opponent and the match begins.  They roll and TWIST their bodies up until either they or their opponent makes one wrong move and then BAM they are done. Stuck in a position that they physically are incapable of getting out of.  The winner has complete control and the looser is stuck on their back. When my boys loose and I've watched them struggle and fight to remove themselves from someone else's control but just can't get away, I'm  tense for a good 30 minutes afterwards and wonder if I'll throw up.  When they win I feel relief, but always scan the crowd sympathetically looking for the mother who just watched her son get TWISTED up by mine.
Mama Bear instincts aside though, they are both having a great season.  They have both placed well at recent tournaments and have way more wins than losses at their weekly meets.  Both boys even love the time they spend at practices.  I love seeing them happy and triumphant, so as TWISTED as my stomach may get, it really isn't all that bad.  At least that's what I keep telling myself.