A few weeks ago I wrote a post about about my ‘previous life’ as an owner of a small business and about writing a blog for that business. The business (sadly) closed years ago and we archived the blog but I thought it would be fun to find it and resurrect a few old posts. It took a bit of searching but my husband finally located the blog inside a folder in a zip file in a dusty corner of an old computer and I’ve been reading a few posts. I thought I would share this one with you today. It’s from four and a half years ago when I was the mother of (only) two boys.
When we found out we were expecting our second boy, I did a bit of web-surfing on the subject of what it’s like to have two sons, and on male sibling relationships in general. Something that repeatedly cropped up (in fact I’m not sure I read anything on the topic that didn’t mention this) was “the wrestling”. This was almost invariably referred to enthusiastically with numerous exclamation marks. In fact, even “naked wrestling!!!!” had a fair few mentions! Parents wrote about this being an integral part of their sons’ relationship, how it was what they seemed to spend a goodly proportion of their time doing, and what pleasure it brought them as parents to watch.
I grew up with two brothers, so the notion of boys wrestling did not surprise me: when I was growing up, ‘fights’ in our house were a daily occurrence, with my dad and brothers often engaged in tussles on the hall carpet. In fact, I seem to recall getting involved in a few myself!
What I didn’t realise was how young the wrestling would start. Son no.2 was barely four months old when he and Son no.1 began their joyful scraps! To be fair, I had to keep a very watchful eye (2 year-olds are all raw energy and very little control!) but what amazed me was how instinctive it seemed to be. Son 2 couldn’t sit or roll (or really move much at all unaided), yet having his big brother grapple with him didn’t faze him at all. And Son 1, for his part, was surprisingly gentle; I found it was rarely necessary to intervene.
These days, at 1½ and 3½, wrestling has become a daily activity for my boys. Watching them, I’m often reminded of puppies – it’s that sense of manic activity, yet utter contentment. And – like those other parents of sons whose words I read 2 years ago – I would also say it is not only one of the defining parts of their relationship, but also one of the most pleasurable things to watch as their mum.
As for the naked wrestling… I’m still waiting…
So that was then… roll on a few years and I’m now the proud mother of three young boys of 8, (nearly) 6 and 2.
These days my oldest two don’t wrestle that much – my 8yo is usually far too embroiled in a Harry Potter book to get involved in such things – but for my younger two, rolling around together, kneeing each other joyfully in various body parts and shrieking with laughter is
an hourly a daily activity.
And I do enjoy getting involved too, in fact when I was pregnant with my youngest, one of the things I missed most was being able to hurl myself to the ground and have my boys wrestle with me. The physicality of little boys may be exhausting at times but it has its rewards – really, there’s little better in life than having three happy small people clambering over you and hunkering down for a huge ‘little boy cuddle’.
Oh, and naked wrestling? There was this hot summers day a few years ago…