Tis the season, no I don't mean Christmas I am talking about wrestling season. My husband Tony is a former high school wrestler and current wrestling coach. Hence why he still maintains a twenty nine inch waist. Why don't former cheerleaders get this same metabolism? Both of my sons Drake and Peyton are on the wrestling team. No not the same team that would make my life way to kooshy. One is in junior high and one in high school. This means different tournaments on the same day. Requiring me to attend most of them alone. Therefore from about mid October to March my entire life is taken over by this sport. So for five months out of every year my life revolves around a sport that I do not even understand. Though Tony and the boys swear to me there are techniques and moves involved it all looks the same to me. Wrestling was a lot more fun when I was in school I mean I really enjoyed watching all the cute muscled boys running in the gym. At forty it is just disgusting to me. Note; the same hormones that cause you to get hot and bothered at sixteen are the same hormones that make you hot and bothered at forty. it just means something totally different. I get to spend all day every Saturday from here clear through February and into March sitting in a gym drenched in sweat to watch one of my sons wrestle for no more than twenty to thirty minutes out of the entire day. And I have to honest even when I watch my own sons I don't get it. I don't know who is in the lead, therefore I just ask my boys to please pin their opponent so I will at least know what happened. With wrestling season in full swing I also get the added benefit of weight being the main topic of most conversations in my home for nearly half of the year. Ain't that just fabulous? Seriously even the word "weight" make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and causes me to sweat. It is not a topic I like to discuss and I will be honest I can't really give advice on dropping weight since I can't figure it out myself. Plus no one in there right mind would take any advice from a pleasantly plump forty year old woman? Now every night at the dinner table Tony begins asking the boys "what was your weight today?" Now I am just waiting on the day when Tony makes the monumental mistake of asking me the same question. I really don't think he ever will I don't think he would risk his life like that. So while I am trying to woof down each nights meal, the calorie intake conversation begins and they start talking about will power and how food is just used as fuel for the body, it is not for pleasure? Come on, what planet are they from. Food is pleasure that is it's sole purpose. Every event my family (the one I was born with) revolves around what is on the menu. And most importantly what is for dessert? See I always remember how to spell dessert I used to confuse it with desert. The I realized dessert has two S's which stand for salivatingly scrumptious, plus two S's represent how I always want two desserts. With the conversation being what it is I decide I probably shouldn't go for the second helping of fried potatoes tonight. Then I have to begin planning on how I can sneak into Hostess Heaven later tonight without being busted by the food gestapo. Why did hostess have to make the absolute noisiest wrappers on the planet? My sweet husband possesses some sort of super power along the lines of sonic hearing and can hear the sound of a tasty treat being unwrapped from anywhere in the house. I am shocked he hasn't trained our two jack Russell's to bite our ankles if we enter the kitchen after 7:30 pm. I have discovered that the laundry room directly off my kitchen can be used as a decoy. If I turn the dryer back on (usually clothes do not come directly out of the dryer when the buzzer goes off) and turn on the washer and kick the mop bucket a couple of times I can get it unwrapped and into my mouth in two bites without being detected. I feel like a prisoner sneaking contraband into my cell. Maybe I should craft a homemade shank just in case the warden ever attempts to take my tasty treats? Now tomorrow the actual wrestling meets begin. This year with Drake being a freshman I have to make all new mom friends. This is not an easy task it is just like being back in high school. The mom's of the upper class men already have their own "little clicks" and you have to prove yourself before you can sit at the "cool mom section." I even volunteered to work bingo for the wrestling program last month at the VFW in order to try and meet some of the mom's prior to the meets starting. I guess I didn't make a good impression when I refused to walk around the bingo hall with an apron on selling tear off instant bingo tickets. They actually wanted me to walk around yelling out "Got your little pickles heeere, Got your country hogs heeere." Like I was some kind of beer and peanut vendor at a sporting event. I suggested that I might be better suited for concession sales they may have taking that as being prissy. Especially when I got to the concession stand and found out most don't get to work concessions without serving a little bingo hall floor time first. Uh oh, I guess I already stepped on a few toes on the volunteer mommy ladder. They should have a rule book because how can you know you are breaking a rule if you don't know the rules. So now I am just really looking forward to going to the first meet being that the "cool moms" haven't even contacted me yet to let me know what food items I am to bring to feed the boys. This is another thing that gets me about this sport the entire week is about cutting weight and exercising then on the day of the meet all the mom's show up with a giant spread along the lines of one of my family's holiday meals. The boys then basically gorge themselves on all the items that I have had to sneak into my laundry room all week? I don't get it. So I suppose tomorrow when I go I will take my sudoku book and my latest Jen Lancaster book and read for seven and a half hours that my son is not actually out on the mat. I don't mean to be negative I am usually a "glass half full kind of girl" but I would have to be a "half assed fool kind of girl" to think I will make it to the "cool mom" section during the first meet of the season. I will let you know how it plays out but in the mean time pray that I am not the awkward weird girl no one wants to talk to because that makes for a very long day. I am also considering getting a petition going to have recliners installed in the gymnasium during wrestling season. I think wooden or metal seating without back support for eight hours is cruel and inhumane. I will even let you know how my new do turns out. Perhaps I will post a new picture on facebook showing it off. Hey maybe the "cool moms" will have to talk to me just to find out where I got my trendy new style, wouldn't that be great!
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Oh yes don't worry about Vanity Fair Moms as they should be called Vanity Unfair Mom's. Their perfect swinging haircuts and polished nails that look so attractive on their diamond studded blackberries. Their treats are made by some underpaid single mom trying to feed their children grilled cheese. So while you look at them picture them with devil horns and tails and no teeth your day will go much better. Love you and you are tooo funny.
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