Our twins have started wrestling with each other every evening. After they clean up all their toys (or take the short cut and shove them under the couch), they decide it’s time. Now, as far as I know, they’ve never actually seen WWE. At least, I’m hoping they can’t yet understand the headline, “The 2010 Slammy Awards set for a special three-hour Raw.”
Before William and Vivian step into the ring (the boundaries defined by the area rug in our living room), they prepare. They take their socks off their feet and put them on their hands. I’m not sure why this is: perhaps it’s so they can use the smelly-sock-in-the-face move. Maybe it’s because they don’t want to scratch each other with any jagged nails they haven’t managed to chew. Most likely it’s just because.
The first night they wrestled, I served as the unofficial referee. It was body slam, pull shirts over each other’s heads wrestling. I was amused, in that laugh-now-because-first-aid-will-be-needed-soon. I also enjoyed this full contact action because I believe physical play can be healthy for self-esteem.
In my mid-twenties, I took Judo. Although I couldn’t cartwheel or round-off to save my life (which sucked the moment I was thrown), I loved ground fighting. After a bout with our instructor — who’d competed for Canada in the Olympics — he looked at me and said, “You definitely have an older brother. Who I bet you used to fight with.” Yup.
So I don’t stop my kids from wrestling. But I no longer opt to watch, either; I hide in another room. If it’s going to involve a trip to the emergency, I don’t want to be a witness. I’m not sure what Child and Family Services would think about my Ostrich Theory approach to parenting, but that hasn’t stopped me before from disappearing when the going gets rough.
Last night, when Vivian and William once again announced it was wrestling time, I packed up my laptop and moved to the other room. Before I disappeared, I yelled this:
Because that’s what the parenting experts tell you to say.
And now you understand why I considered naming my blog, “Moronic Mom” (which, incidentally, is a domain that’s still available).