As I mentioned in my most recent post, my family is once again complete thanks to the recent homecoming of my husband and oldest son who returned tired and weary from a very snowy hunting trip in Colorado. The homecoming was a comforting, serene, peaceful, happy, placid and loving re-uniting of brothers.
The following day was met with complete and total chaos.
The same has been true for each day thereafter.
The days of good behavior while they were separated from one another are long gone and have since been replaced with wild, strange, uncivilized forms of grappling. Apparently the order of superiority and mastery needs to be re-established among the brothers despite my pleas of peace and good-will for all. I had considered enrolling my boys in wrestling a couple of weeks ago, but with the last of the soccer games wrapping up this past weekend and my freedom from set practice schedules and games looking quite appealing, I decided against it.
I’m not sure I make a very good referee, and yet I find myself in this position almost constantly. Maybe it’s the cooler temperatures. Maybe it’s the time change. Maybe it’s being stuck inside for longer periods of time together that provoke this type of behavior. Maybe this is why wrestling is a winter sport.
Or maybe it’s just natural.
I used to cheer for wrestling in high school. I still remember many of the cheers that I pounded on the mats, match after match. But I never really understood the need for the sport. I chose to cheer for wrestling over basketball because the cheers were more interesting and it got me out of school during the tournaments. Plus the cheer coach hated wrestling and was never present at the matches to supervise us, meaning I could forgo the required ponytail and wear my hair down instead. I was way cuter with my hair down.
And that’s all that really mattered.
And so, if I cannot tame the grappling in my house, I will surrender my unofficial referee designation to that of the official referees in the wrestling world for the winter. I will trade my whistle for some singlets. And I will once again cheer for a sport that I still do not understand.