WWE Smackdown

Use Your Words

Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.

At the end of this post you’ll find links to the other blogs featuring this challenge. Check them all out, see what words they got and how they used them.  

I’m using:  karma ~ sort out ~ direction ~ packed ~ shooting star ~ magnificent

They were submitted by:  http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch/  (Confessions of a part time working mom)

My son and I have some of our best conversations in the car.  He knows I can’t walk away or leave the room, I’m at his mercy.  I’m forced dragged invited to participate in conversations about comic book characters, video games, Star Wars, basketball, soccer and most recently, wrestling.  In fairness, he never wants to discuss the latest book I read or the new workout clothes I bought or listen to my most recent workout rant.

“Mom?” man-child

“Mom!?” man-child

“hmm?”  me

“Okay, so I have a question?” man-child

With a sigh, I turn down the radio.

“Mom?” man-child

“Yes, honey?  What’s your question?” me

“Okay, so who do you think would win in a battle between John Cena and Mark Henry?” man-child

“Who is John Cena and Mark Henry?” me

“Mom!  John Cena?!  He has bigger muscles than dad!  He can pick up 400 pound men and throw them down!” man-child

John Cena…John Cena…oh oh oh, a thought and a certain image has occurred to me!

“Oh, the guy from Trainwreck” me

Now I’m reliving that awkward sex scene from the movie.

“No, he wasn’t in a train wreck.  Tell me John Cena wasn’t in a train wreck!”  man-child painfully grips my arm in alarm.

“No no no, it’s a movie called Trainwreck, he was in that movie I think” me

“Oh, I need to see this movie.” man-child

“No, you can’t watch that movie.” me

“Why not?” man-child

“It’s not appropriate for you.” me

“You let me watch inappropriate movies all the time.” man-child

“No we don’t.” me

I quickly look to the sky.  Whew, not a cloud in sight.

“Yes you do!  I’m just not allowed to talk about it, remember.” man-child

“What? No, we don’t let you watch rated R movies! Do you tell people we let you watch Rated R movies?!” me

“Pretty sure you have mom.” man-child

“Umm no.  We haven’t. Name one?” me

“Mom, that movie Dad was watching that he thought was PG-13 but really it was R.  Mmm-hmm, now what mom? And I’m not even sure I should be watching PG-13, I’m only 9, but I’m not complaining” man-child

“You’re giving me a headache.  I don’t remember any such movie. And you’re almost 10. PG-13 means “parental discretion”, Star Wars was PG-13, are you saying we shouldn’t have taken you?” me

“Relax mom, I’m not saying that and yes you do remember. But anyway, you didn’t answer my question?” man-child

“Are you telling people you watch inappropriate movies?” me (totally casual-like, not panicked at all)

“Don’t worry mom, your secret is safe. Now answer my question.” man-child

“There is no secret.  We don’t let you watch inappropriate movies.” me, exasperated

“Ok, mom, whatever you say…now John Cena and Mark Henry…?” man-child, exasperated

We spent 20 minutes discussing the merits of John Cena and his magnificent muscles.  We don’t let him watch Rated R movies, he says this stuff to wind me up.  Our girls complain that we aren’t nearly as strict with him as we were with them and it’s true.  I can’t deny this.  I explain that we’re old and tired now, that they have ruined us.  At which point, they roll their eyes and sigh and man-child giggles.

So man-child is obsessed with all things wrestling…this week.  The other night he came home from Tae Kwon Do very upset.  I asked him what was wrong, and he mumbled something under his breath and proceeded to lock himself in the bathroom.  Husband now enters the room looking chagrined.

“What did you do?” me

“What makes you think I did anything?” husband

*eyebrow lift*

“Ok well…I might have done something.” husband

Apparently, man-child asked my husband if “wrestling was real?”  I imagine man-child got into a heated debate with someone at school about the validity of wrestling.  His hero, John Cena, was being maligned and he needed answers!  Enter Dad.  Daddy would sort out this mess and make it right!  He would restore John Cena’s good name and defend his honor. Or not.  The conversation did not take the direction man-child thought it would, clearly.  

“He asked me if wrestling was real.” husband

“And you said…?” me

“I said no, it isn’t real.  I explained it’s a performance of sorts. Then I looked up in the rearview mirror and saw that my response had confused and upset him.  Don’t look at me like that, I tried to fix it!  I told him that they were real athletes, and that parts of wrestling were real but that it was a theatrical performance, like fight scenes in movies.  What?!? Stop looking at me like that” husband

“I think you’re just jealous of his man-crush on John Cena.” me

“Don’t be ridiculous.” husband

“You’ve never told him Santa isn’t real.  Is it because Santa is fat?” me

“Really?” husband (shaking his head)

“I’m just sayin’…  Your wrestling name could be Dreamcrusher” me (lol’ing my own jokes)


Maybe it’s too soon for jokes.

“You should go talk to him.” me

“What do I say?” husband

“I don’t know, I’ve never crushed a child’s dreams before.  What?  Too soon? Sorry.  Look, you didn’t know.  He’ll be fine.  Eventually.  Hopefully.  After therapy, most likely.  You have to say something, your karma points are sliding fast.” me

Husband sighs.  Poor guy.

Husband did try to go talk to him again, telling him about the Von Erich brothers and how much he admired them when he was growing up, praising the athleticism of wrestlers, John Cena in particular.  Man-child listened quietly.  He didn’t say much.  It broke both our hearts to be honest.

Man-child still believes in the magic of Santa, the power of wishing on a shooting star, the whimsy of the tooth fairy, the wide-eyed wonder of the Easter Bunny.  He will be 10 next week, and he’s our baby.  His 3 sisters are much older, so I cling to these last vestiges of childhood.  I cherish his innocence and imagination, the spontaneous hugs and exclamations of love.  He always surprises us with the depth of his sentimentality.  I remember when his oldest sister moved out, and she left behind her dresser, which was bigger than the one in man-child’s bedroom.  He still had the same dresser from his nursery.  We thought he’d be excited to be getting a bigger more grown-up dresser, but on the day we packed up his old one, he cried.  He said, “But I’ve never known another dresser!”  

For us, it was a practical decision.  We assumed he wouldn’t care, that he’d be on board, but we had to sell him on it.  He eventually accepted the decision, and he likes his new dresser now, but the force of his emotions about his baby dresser still shocks and surprises me.  I just wanted to hold him in my arms forever and protect him from all life’s disappointments, both big and small.  The feelings invoked when your children are sad or upset and feeling the pains of growing up can be so visceral, so tangible you can almost taste it.  It’s one of the hardest things about being a parent.

Letting go.  

Watching them grow up, and knowing that you can’t protect them from everything.  I love what each new day with him brings to my life.  I feel this way about each of my children and couldn’t imagine my life without them.  I’m very blessed, humbled and thankful for all of them.  They changed my life forever and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  

Man-child isn’t talking about wrestling much these days.  This isn’t unusual, it’s his 4th obsession this year alone and it’s only January 15th.  In fact, he came home from school yesterday and announced that he wants to be a software engineer.  It was my husband’s turn in the hot seat of parental mistakes or failures, it could very easily have been me, and probably will be next time.  As parents, my husband and I don’t always have the right answer or handle things the way we should, but we would do anything for our children.  I mean look at this face! ❤


Volunteering at S.O.U.L Church on a very cold morning

Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:


http://bakinginatornado.com                                     Baking In A Tornado

http://berghamchronicles.blogspot.com/              The Bergham Chronicles

http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/                  Spatulas on Parade

http://www.renasworld.com/                               Rena’s World

http://dinoheromommy.com/                     Dinosaur Superhero Mommy

http://notthatsarahmichelle.blogspot.com                Not That Sarah Michelle

http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch           Confessions of a part time working mom

http://www.southernbellecharm.com                        Southern Belle Charm

http://www.someoneelsesgenius.com                     Someone Else’s Genius

http://www.angrivatedmom.wordpress.com/              The Angrivated Mom

http://climaxedtheblog.blogspot.com                               Climaxed

http://mybrainonkids.net                                     My Brain on Kids


12 thoughts on “WWE Smackdown

  1. Totally had to laugh at what you told your daughters about being old and tired and them having ruined you because I felt that way after my first son.
    But that look on man-child’s face in that pic? Clearly you’re doing something right!

  2. I’m so glad to know you and Jerry for many reasons, but particularly for this post, because it makes your posts THAT much more entertaining. When I’m reading the dialogue, I hear yalls voices in my head saying what I’m reading. =)

  3. Ditto on doing right … I too smiled about the dresser – my “man child” is 47 and we still have his plastic army men, match box cars, trucks and decorate with them at Christmas … :/G’Kids always point out how unsafe they were way back then.

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