...to attend Will's first wrestling meet

...who knew that wrestling meets were even more tortuous than swim meets?

For the record...I am not a big fan of surprises.  And if you knew this, than you should have spoken up!

I should have been told that if I was going to bring one novice wrestler and three uninterested sisters to this event that I should have come 'prepared'.  (Prepared with an extra-large bottle of wine chilling at home awaiting my arrival to help ease the pain of this afternoon.)

Yikes.

Talk about stress.  For the record at the moment I am talking about MY stress.

Over 400 wrestlers were competing in this event.

Parking?  Nope.  Really.  There was NO place to park.

Temperature?  Warmer than any pool atrium I have ever been in.

Tears?  Everywhere you turned.  Including: Wrestlers, mommas (me included), siblings (those wanting treats, those who had been hurt).

Length?  7 hours.

I had envisioned chit-chatting with my friend's in between matches whilst I watched my cherubs aptly coloring, reading, and playing their video games.

That not exactly how the day went.

Enough about me.  Now let's talk Will.

He started his day with the breakfast of champions,

was very excited,

and tried really hard!

Will won his first match.  And then the afternoon turned from great to bad to worse.  His second match was rough.  He got beat up and really lost his confidence.  He wanted to quit.  Told us all he wasn't going back out to finish the match.  He had tears.  Lots of them.  But bless his little heart he went back out there...and finished.

Stressful.

I felt like Will had the weight of the world on his shoulders.  All the people watching.  His coach.  His teammates.  His mom.

I haven't even mentioned the fact that it looks like wrestling hurts!  And it is hard, hard, work.

I am not convinced he exerted 100% effort on his last three matches.

By the time we arrived home....Will had chucked the medal he had earned, torn up whatever papers were handy, and had announced not only that he wasn't going to wrestle anymore (and that I could not make him) but that he wasn't going to take a shower either (that statement was just ridiculous).  And I don't know if he was more upset about his performance or the fact he didn't get a trophy.  No matter.

I suppose it is one of those life's lessons that has to happen.  Not everyone wins.

This is an event he'll remember for a long time.

I just hope that I supported him without coddling him.  That I encouraged him without filling him with false pride.  I hope that I did this one right.

By the time we had dinner, showers, and stories William was actually already talking about practice on Tuesday and maybe trying to wrestle in a match again.  Nothing like a full belly and a warm heart to make you feel better.

What more can a parent ask for?

Me: "I wonder how if there is a match near the END of March?"