Being a wrestling mom

I should preface this story with the fact that I have 3 sisters and the only sport I did was ballet.  So ya.. not a lot of wrestling experience.

I made a deal with my 13 year old that if he worked hard, got good grades, kept his room clean and did after school sports I would let him play video games after school.  So far we have done lovely no touching cross country and now wrestling.  I fear most games with balls as my beautiful children share my fantastic ability to get hit in the face with any ball that is in the vicinity.  Not to mention the fact that we are bleeders.   I digress.  We are now a wrestling family.  I have been introduced to a garment called a singlet that I am fairly certain Miley Cyrus would consider racy.  It is like an old timey swimsuit that is so tight you can tell my sons religion.
 
The moves
Well  my 79 year old father, 70 year old mother and I for practicing buddies.  My mother can now put my father in a half nelson.  We were such a peaceful family before...  I had to practice  a move called a high crotch.  I think I have PTSD.

The meets
My son worked very hard and did well.  The first 2 meets we made it in time and he won.  The third meet I was late and his family got terribly lost and never made it.  Surprise.  My son of course lost.  He said he missed my support.  Please insert a dagger into my heart as that would be easier to take.  We then had a giant storm and school was cancelled and we missed a couple meets.

 Are you still with me?  So we go to the meet and the other team looks like they are on roids.  I mean bulging biceps huge legs the works.  They had awesome nick names like chubby and meat.  I thought I was probably going deaf with the meat name.  It had to be Pete right?  No, clearly meat.  His Neanderthal parental unit even called him meat.  I think I am going to go by meat from now on.  It sounds awesome.  The giants are decimating my childs team.  Its a blood bath.  several kids have cotton shoved up there noses from getting bashed by the likes of Chubby and Meat.  My child is up at the mat furthest from me.  As I am walking over I see a blur than my kid with blood all over his face.  I told Jake to hold me back as I may have to return the favor to the future criminal of America.  My child agrees to keep going, because he is a warrior. The brutes parents spent the whole time yelling ideas on how to maim my child.  I am not proud of it but I was mad and they were right behind me.  I said a little too loud, "At least my son only needs a tampon in his nose and doesn't have to resort to b**** moves".  He lost the match but just by a few points.  I lost my dignity but told my son on the way home and we had to pull over because we were laughing so hard.  He told me, "I really took a beating"  I told him where do you want eat.  He said, "what can I have"  I said,"Honey mommy feels real bad for you.  If you want pony meat I will go find a pony, beat it to death butcher and cook it up just for you,".  His retort?  "McDonald's sounds great".  We ate pony meat at McDonald's and made several jabs at his opponents manhood.  I am not proud of it but it was one of those moments that stick with you.

These last 3 years have been so hard.  I love the moments that feel normal and ridiculous.  The moments where we don't have to be saints.  I love my kid so much.  Not only can he take a punch but he is also one of the few who get my jokes.