I’ve always felt like I had to do everything my children. That’s just the way it’s supposed to be. If they enjoy football then I would play with them, if they like watching kung fu movies then I will watch with them. That’s how I’d imagined it. I thought that was just a part of motherhood.
So far my kids interests have been limited since they are so young. They both love music so I’ve always sung to them. They love dancing so we put on music and have dance parties all the time. They love reading so I read to them. I’ve made the effort to be a part of everything they love. That has ranged from playing with dinky cars to watching The Wiggles. Regardless of how tedious it got I was a part of it. Honestly here was a time when I would fall asleep singing “Toot Toot Chugga Chugga Big Red Car….”.
Both my kids LOVE to play rough. They love to wrestle and “fight” and jump around. Almost every night Mr. C. takes a half an hour to an hour to “wrestle” with the kids. Our king size bed becomes the “ring”. They become the “Powers of Pain” the tag team champions of the world. They wrestle complete with entry music (sung by themselves), grunts and mixed in there you’ll always hear a few giggles. They love it! From all over the house you’ll hear “I’m the Barbarian, you’re the warload and together we’re the Powers of Pain” then they begin to jump and tumble all around. It started with Mr. C. and Mr. T. but as soon as Ms. J was old enough to crawl she wanted in there and let me tell you she can throw down just like the boys!
They do mix it up sometimes with playing “Hauss” as they call it where they pretend to be Sumo wrestlers and run at each other until Mr. T. bowls Mr. C. over.
Tonight Mr. C. went out and as we climbed the stairs to get ready for bath Mr T. demanded that I “get” him, meaning that I wrestle him. I tried my best. I jumped in the ring ready to put Holk Hogan to shame. Rather than pulling off flips and tumbles I cowered in fear as Mr T did somersaults over me. I covered my head and face as he jumped on me. I had no idea how to finish the “powers of pain” speech and I cried, yes I cried, when he got me in the head with his foot! Yes I am a wimp. I am nowhere near a tomboy. I am a girls girl. I don’t do wrestling. I CAN’T enjoy it. I am way too scared of getting hurt. I hate getting hurt. I am too worried that someone is going to get bumped and bruised, that someone is going to fall off the bed, or that someone’s going to lose an eye. I am fully aware that just saying that makes me sound like a grumpy old lady.
Eventually I gave up. I realized that wrestling, powers of pain, Hauss, and any other form of rough and tumble just isn’t for me and that’s ok. There is no rule saying that I have to take part in EVERY SINGLE THING my kids enjoy. There are a million things that I do with them. Feel like baking cookies, I’m your girl. You wanna paint? I’ll pull out all the art supplies! Need someone to have a tea party with? Look no further! I’m just no good at wrestling. They aren’t going to have any fun with me while I tremble in a corner afraid of getting an poked in the eye. In defense of the eye thing let me remind you that Mr. T. did poke me in the eye, twice, tearing my cornea so it’s not just a ridiculous fear..someone really can lose an eye!!!
So I will now leave the wrestling and rough play to Mr. C. He loves it! He is GOOD at it. He knows just what to do. He knows how to tumble with them without hurting anyone. He knows the wrestling lingo and the chants. He can just pull it off perfectly. He gets them all riled up and then somehow manages to calm them down in time for bed and stories. THis is his territory. They can bond with their daddy while getting some exercise and burning off some steam.
It doesn’t make me a bad mum. I will always support them in everything they want to do. If one of them decides that they want to wrestle I will be there cheering them on for every match. But for now I will leave the wrestling to Mr. C. They are the Powers of Pain and they continue to be the tag team champions of the world!