Wrestling

Seriously? Wrestling? I feel like my house is WWE Friday Night Smackdown every day (growly voices included). Wrestle on the couch, on the floor, anywhere or nowhere in particular once the mood strikes them. I have to say I prefer the couch, since it takes longer for the inevitable injury to occur.

Really, I'm not exactly sure where they got the idea, since Caleb is not really a wrestling-type Dad. It doesn't matter because it's like the flu and they've already caught the bug. I have assumed the roll of the nagging mom all day. We are constantly trying to limit injuries as well as bumps and thumps on the floor (for the benefit of our downstairs neighbors, who have already developed saint-like patience). It's possible that we are worse than the base-thumping-music-type neighbors, but that may be up for debate. That's apartment living I guess.

The most nerve-racking move I have witnessed would have to be when someone climbs on top of some piece of furniture (like in the corner of the wrestling ring) and jumps on the other participant. Is that called a body slam? Usually, this follows by an eruption of laughter (thankfully), but sometimes a boo-boo. I feel like they are going to start smacking their elbow for a "flying elbow drop" any day now. So, I apologize in advance to other mothers. I hope my Wrestle-Mania hopefuls don't pass this bad habit along because there is no turning back. Just to let you know, we're working on it (for probably the next 10 years).

(sigh)

Also, don't keep scrolling for pictures. We still don't have our camera, although I'm sure you would love to see my little wrestlers in action.