Bittersweet and Bobbing

A flurry of emotions flooded me, none of them good.

Oozing over with anger and sadness at the State Wrestling Tournament in Columbus last weekend, I was fit to be tied, or smacked, or something.

My senior son, Wes, had lost his second match due to a foot injury in the first round. He was predicted to take 2nd and now his high school career was done. This was the first in nine years of four high school wrestling sons, that two of them qualified for State the same year. It held such promise!

I threw my stuff in the trunk (that required 5 slams to shut) and sat in the car for a long time trying to cool down before I headed back to the hotel in Nascar fashion. Doing quite well, I might add...with the Nascar part....I was northbound on 315 when I noticed something bobbing in my rear view mirror. You guessed it, the trunk lid. I couldn't safely pull over and nothing was in danger of falling out unless there was a half pipe around the corner. So I just kept clipping along with traffic while I pretended not to notice people staring and pointing. I just hoped my chocolate supply didn't bobble loose.

I grin now, but boy was I angry. At God. Yep, I usually go straight to the top for this stuff. I know He could have blessed Wes, but He didn't. Not in this way anyway. It made me seriously angry.

Dexter (sophomore) was 17 seconds away from being done in the tournament himself, and down by 3 points. I was starting to feel the tears of defeat when Dexter reversed the kid (2 points) and locked in his crazy wrenching tilt where he literally leverages his entire body on the kid until he turns him to his back - and it worked! He scored two more points in the last two seconds to win the match! This was a near heart attack I tell you. I bawled. I had friends and family crying. I had people who didn't even know me crying. It was an amazing victory for Dexter and he went on to place 7th in the state.

A bittersweet weekend to be sure.

Today a friend hit a point home for me, and I needed it. She said, (my paraphrase) "Shelley, sports teach life lessons, and the rewards they get later in life applying those lessons are the ones that matter."

I knew this, I really did. I wrote something like this in my wrestling book. The people they become, the commitment and work ethic they learn, this is what matters. I know. But somehow today when she said it, it was like I finally hit the ball that was pitched to me, and I smacked it out of the park.

OK God, I get it. I still don't really like it and I'll probably need reminded again, but I think I get it.

Cars Falling Like Dominoes Solution

The college duo -Mitch & Cody, were right on time getting out the door to drive to class, no time to air up the flat tire they found on Cody's car. So, they marched over to Mitch's car while Mitch said something like, "Ya Turd, we've taken my car for the last four days!"

But his car's battery was dead, so he had to get mouthy about something else now.
By the time I saw them, heard them actually, they were pulling out of the driveway in the 1990 Ghetto-Astro conversion van. Their mission: to give new meaning on campus to the word 'class'.

I was supposed to use Trevor's car to get to a work meeting because the van was in the shop. Trevor noticed a low tire on his car too and went out to work it. He came in too quickly asking how to use the battery charger. His car was dead too.

Yes, we were 0-3 on the lot.

So, Dave had to stop home for his lunch to jump start and charge up vehicles, while on his way to exchange the van for the car he was driving that needed other repairs.

Our solution possibilities?
1) buy the car pictured here (a girl's gotta dream)
2)hitch-hike (this is not safe)
3)fire up the mini bike & strap on the helmet (safer)
4) play musical cars (this is our personal favorite and wins every time).

Today all the dominoes are standing. It's a good day.

Relax

We're in the most intense time of wrestling season, and life is just plain busy. I don't have time to write a fresh creative blog story (obviously right, look at the date of my last post...).

So, I'll update you with the news that I just turned in a finished little book project for Barbour Publishing (a gift book entitled You're Sweet), the family & wrestling team are doing great, and our kitten is in fact, alive, after escaping into the winter for a night.

I thought I would do a quick little picture story for fun.

I need to relax a little more like this. Just in the middle of life....relax.

Dave and I did go to Maumee Bay for a night last weekend for our 24th Anniversary. We slept a ridiculous amount of time with this view out our window. That was one of the nice deep breaths in life.

A short time later reality awaited me at home...

Did I mention that I want to relax like this?

Bruisers and popsicles

Life in a house of teenage and college boys is interesting. Other adjectives that come to mind: messy, funny, loud, challenging. But, mostly entertaining.

If they are not talking about Fight Club or movies of the like, they are hosting their own fight club of sorts (as evidenced by photo).

A typical conversation occurred the other night, accompanied by an unexpected humility moment.

Trevor was giving Cody crap about something funny, I don't remember all the background. But it went something like this.

Hanging out in the kitchen, a few of the boys were 'de-briefing' after an Elmwood wrestling dual. Cody thought a certain wrestler's stance was scary and thought it would be intimidating to wrestle him. Trevor (per normal) thought it would be fun to mock Cody. So, while eating his Popsicle (a staple around here) Trevor got in the 'scary' stance, acting all cocky, and said, just after taking the Popsicle out of his mouth, "Every time I wrestle you now Cody, I'm going to do this..." and then another hit off the Popsicle. This is when it flew out of his mouth and hand, somehow simultaneously, with perfect arc, onto the floor.

Everybody roared!

Trevor had to laugh too, with a face that said, "OK, I deserved that."

It took awhile for the laughter to die down. We enjoyed it.

Later I thought how God has a way of putting me in my place when I start getting overly confident. Humility, forced or chosen, either way, we all need it.

Thinker Sign

After a busy early morning when we had all headed off in different directions I returned to my home office and found this sign on the floor by the back door. It read "Pee here!"

Living in a house full of sarcastic jokers I had to think about what it meant.

The sign could have been dropped, blown, or carried by the kitten from its original site where perhaps someone was leaving instructions for someone else who had exhibited behavior indicating that they needed some direction (don't think about that too long).

Or, the sign was exactly where it was supposed to be, in fact, at it's original site, and was a warning. In other words, don't step here and/or put this rug in the washer.

I put the rug in the washer. Heavy duty, 2nd rinse. Got the story later.

According to Mitch, it turns out that the kitten was once again confused. Rugs, just like freshly swept up little piles of dirt, can look a lot like a litter box apparently.

Now I know what the sign means and it makes me laugh!

But it reminded me of how important it is to get to the bottom of things when we aren't sure that we understand the signs of life. Whether it's a comment made by someone, or a verse that we think we know the meaning of. Truth can never be over-rated.

Keeping Track

The head count was complete. The wrestling team, the statisticians, and one extra fan bobbled in their seats, headed to the tournament early Saturday morning. They didn't even get around the country block when Coach's cell phone rang.

He saw that it was one of his wrestlers and thought the call was coming from the back of the bus.

"Dad, uh, you kind of left me at the school." Dexter said.

Turns out that one extra fan threw off that head count.

A couple weeks later Dexter was the first one home from an optional wrestling team ice cream time. A little while later I saw the other three vehicles file in the driveway, one right behind the other.

Everybody's home, I noted from my cozy chair by the window.

A short while later while Wes lounged on the couch wearing his brand new wrestling shoes, his phone rang. It was Coach/Dad.

Not everyone was home.

"Wes, you guys didn't leave me a car. Someone needs to come back and pick me up!"

"Rrrright." said Wes, making his way to the door.

Seven people. Seven cars. Sometimes seven cars that run. Sometimes we carpool. Sometimes for savings. Sometimes out of necessity. It gets confusing.

Glad God's keeping track of us!

Photo above from Medina Tournament: (l-r) Coach Trevor Lee, Westley Lee, Nick Goebel, Coach Dave Lee, Dexter Lee.

Laughing and Losing

Wrestling is an amazing sport.



If you don't know this about me, I live in the midst of wrestling, wrestlers, wrestling coaches, and ongoing wrestling conversations woven into the fabric of my daily life whether I like it or not. Six men live in this house with me, the one I'm married to is a head coach and absolutely passionate about the sport. This is admirable and respectable most of the time. :) Two of my four sons coach, two wrestle. Another of the boys' friends lives here, he too is a coach. All have wrestled, still wrestle. Twenty minutes ago, in the kitchen.



On Saturday six of us played our parts at an intense day of team duals. And here's where my blog story begins.



My high school senior, Wes, was wrestling an opponent who was illegally grabbing one Westley finger at a time when the ref couldn't see it. Wes was winning the match all along, but would scream out when this would happen. Wes began to get very angry and frustrated. The opponent smiled boldly in satisfaction. It was a flagrant display of bad sportsmanship. I saw his coach quietly signal him to stop, but he didn't seem able to bring the despicable grin under control. Coach talked with the ref about a separate questionable call as the Wes' temper began to flare. At one point during the match Wes yelled over at his Dad/coach, "He's laughing!"



"I don't care, he's losing!!" was Coach's response.



That made everybody grin. And Wes applied more aggressive grit than usual to pinning the joker, which he did in the third period with a move something like that pictured (photo from earlier in the season, Wes in blue). Later Wes told me that while he was pinning him, the kid was pinching Wes' butt. Classy.



These situations can get me flaring in the stands. Thankfully I was able to keep decent sportsmanslike composure. Even while demonstrating the illegal one finger move on an opposing team fan who was complaining about the "whining coach" who kept talking to the ref. That was a high point in my day.



I couldn't get the "I don't care, he's losing!!" phrase out of my head though. It was funny but it got me thinking about other things, as usual.



I've got this image of God coaching me in my constant wrestling match with the enemy of my soul, and I'm yelling things like, "He's lying!" "He's cheating!"



And God calmly says, "It's OK, he's losing."