Wrestlemania, Youth Edition

At 6:00 am last Sunday, my son Thomas, age 13, and I headed out to his club wrestling tournament.

Cue the theme from Rocky, "Gonna Fly Now."

Youth wrestling tournaments are quite the spectacle, beginning with the early morning traffic jam for weigh ins.  We arrive just before 7:00 am at the dark, dank gymnasium north of Chicago, a perfect setting for a blue collar sport.  Forget the brie and chardonnay, this is a Velveeta and Red Bull crowd.  Kids file in with gear over their shoulders, parents carrying coolers.  Once inside, the kids are round up like Holsteins to have their weight, hair and fingernails checked.

After a quick team warm-up, we all sit, and sit, teams and parents clustered together on hard, unforgiving bleachers, which is fitting. 

Wrestling is a grueling sport, who's one-on-one nature and continuous movement results in a twisting, reaching, ongoing vulnerability.  I competed in high school with teammates who now coach my son.  We are all older, fatter and balder, but the lessons remain.  As legendary Iowa coach Dan Gable says, "Once you've wrestled, everything else is easy." 

Beginning at 9:00 am up to 12 matches take place at once on four mats, made possible because kids as young as 5 don't need much room.  Groups of kids are called up to the "bullpen" room by age group, then sent out to wrestle each other, often after a 30 minute wait with nothing to do but stare and flex at each other.

Whoever came up with chaos theory had youth wrestling tournaments in mind.  Where else can a parent sit for over seven hours to watch their child in action for a total of 30 minutes, presuming each six minute match "goes the distance," which at the youth level is as likely as Tim Tebow embracing Buddha.  Unlike baseball or choir (my oldest daughter's passion), where you are vested in a "team" because your kid is part of a group, it's hard to get excited watching the 40 or so matches before my guy is up.  Then again I have never seen someone throw a hip toss on a mezzo soprano.

At the youth level matches are quick and random.  Last year, Thomas lost a close match, after which I went for my constitutional. As I emerged, his coach ran up to me and said, "Man, what a great turnaround." Turns out he pinned another kid while I was, ahem, away.

On this day, Thomas lost his first match, then battled back against three opponents to take fourth place, winning a nice medal (any parent knows it's all about the hardware). 

We headed back around 4:30, stopping for his obligatory McFlurry before we talk about the day.  In his fourth match, for third place, he faced a kid known for headlocks, youth wrestling's version of a "one trick pony."  Thomas countered him the first two times, stepping in and managing a takedown, but missed the third time and got pinned.  I tell him how proud I am, for persevering, at which point he flashes a sheepish grin and says, "Thanks Dad, but I was just tired and ready to go."

Marv Levy, who led the Buffalo Bills to four straight Super Bowls, used to walk the field during warm-ups and ask his players, "Is there anywhere you would rather be than right here, right now." 

My answer, of course, is no. 

Some Zzzs Please

Have you heard about "Go the Fu*k To Sleep?"  Described as a "children's book for adults," it's pure genius.  Check out Samuel L. Jackson on this youtube link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hNhnCD0EZtE

C'mon, this is funny stuff.  It's O.K. to laugh.

I love "Go The F*ck to Sleep" because it's another chink in the "perfect parent" armor; A sippy cup in the eye of the parenting fantasy as nothing but smooches and ice cream.

Parenting is a full contact sport.  I would love for my kids to go to sleep on demand, just like I'd love walls without hand prints or a bedroom that doesn't double as a doll and toy minefield.  And while we're at it, I'd like to wear dry cleaning within a mile of my house. 

How can beings so small, so cute, be so utterly destructive and exhausting?

As far as kids and sleep goes, so far I'm 2-for-4.  My twins were easy on the sleep front once they passed age two, though early on it felt like Vietnam.

These days, my younger ones are creating their own legacy.

When Audra was two she went through a diva phase, constantly changing her clothes.  One night I awoke to the thump of little feet.  Over the next week or so I would open her bedroom door and find her in one of three states:

1.  Naked in front of a pile of clothes.
2.  Asleep on top of a pile of clothes, either naked or in a, ahem, creative ensemble.
3.  Running around the room in a creative ensemble.

We were forced to move all clothes to the top shelves of her closet. 

As parents, we continually move things higher, out of a kid's way, as if a flood has struck the living room.  Show me your refrigerator door and I can guess your kids age within two years. 

Then there's Drea, who somehow can't fall asleep unless strapped into a car seat, and appears ready to vault out of her crib a la Mary Lou Retton.

If I can stay awake long enough, look for my follow-up book, "I'm Too Old For This Sh*t."

Camp Getmeottahere

There are three "young child activities" every adult should witness at least once:

1.  Watching a child eat an ice cream cone
2.  Watching a child dance
3.  Watching a child head off to summer camp

I have experienced all three in the past month through the eyes of my 4 year old daughter. 

We signed her up for summer camp three days a week. 

Could have done five days, or seven, or ten.  The kid has not had a moment of separation anxiety since birth.  I am confident if we dropped her off in Paris for a week we would return to find her in a beret sipping cafe au lait, surrounded by her new native friends.

On the first day of camp it's hard to tell who is more excited, the kids or the newly sprung parents, who suddenly has time to sip coffee without dodging toys and vomit.

But you get used to it. 

It has been a few years since my older kids started summer camp.  Now it's as routine for them as waking up in time for lunch.  In fact, I'm planning to found "Camp Wanderteen" next year, where the sole activity will be aimlessly roaming parks while plugged in to an ipod. 

The camp experience has me thinking, what would happen if adults were loaded up on buses, with backpacks and baseball hats, for four weeks of summer fun?

Here are a few activities for "Camp Getmeottahere:"

"Sweet Dreams" - Campers sit in circle time and hear stories about strenuous exercise and evenings that end after 9pm.  Those who fall asleep the fastest get a special prize. 

"Organ recital" - Campers line up to discuss their various ailments, with points awarded based on degree of acceptance.  Bald spots and pouches get top billing.

"Connect me not" - Campers troll the mall with a blackberry connecting all day while ignoring those in their immediate presence.
 
"Remote duel" - Campers sit in front of flat screens and are timed to see how many shows they can fully recall over a single hour of channel hopping.  Sporting events excluded, and women are given a five show lead.   

How have your camp experiences been?  I invite you to comment and would enjoy hearing from you.