We are having a major problem in the Diehl house. I know that there is some degree of normalcy to it, being that this is a house completely overrun by testosterone and sweat, but I can’t take it anymore!
It’s the wrestling.
But let me back up for a minute.
By the time Luke was 4 or so (and Bennett 2), people started commenting things to me like, “Oh, I’ll bet there’s a lot of wrestling in your house!” And I always said “no, not really, but I’m sure it’s coming.” I mean, I grew up with brothers; I remember them wrestling with each other sometimes, but it’s not like it’s a primary childhood memory. As my boys got older and still weren’t really wrestling much, I thought *maybe* I just have kids that, though they like to play hard, aren’t really wrestlers, you know?
Something happened the day we got this house. I don’t know if they hit the magical ages for wanting to wrestle at the exact moment that we obtained more space to wrestle in, or if it would have happened in our smaller house or if it’s just a product of having more room, but it’s on. All the time.
No joke, here’s a picture of the first few moments in this house:
It’s reached an all-time high, and I am about to lose my mind. Occasionally I tell them to go downstairs and wrestle because there are fewer things to break and/or hurt themselves with. But mostly, I tell them to stop. Or, like yesterday morning, have an “I’m-completely-losing-my-mind-stop-touching-your-brother-or-else-you’re-grounded-from-everything-you-like-for-a-week” screaming-banshee fit. The kind of fit that makes me feel like a failure when I’m done yelling, because I hate to yell at the boys…it’s wrong, and it’s ineffective. So I apologized for the yelling but not for what I said, because that had all been fine; my volume was the issue.
Of course, this morning as I was upstairs getting dressed to take them to school (literally, I’d been away for 45 seconds), Jack Henry started crying. I came down and demanded the whole truth on the first telling of the story, and of course, they’d be tackling each other since the second I turned my back. So now, the two older ones are grounded from the Wii for a week and neither of them can play with friends for a week (good thing for B, who has some playtime set up for next Thursday already).
But I need help. I totally get that boys have a need to roughhouse. Should I make it a part of our day, like 15 minutes of wrestling after school? Will that even do anything to help them not tackle each other the rest of the day? Moms of boys, help. I’m desperate.