Apr. 30, 2008 - Why I Love the UFC
What, you don't know what UFC is? It stands for Ultimate Fighting Challenge or Championship...maybe Club? It doesn't really matter in the whole scheme of things because I don't really love it, but my husband does. He loves all things martial arts. Since he was a wee one, he has wanted to be Bruce Lee. So back to UFC... naturally, what looks to me as two men beating the living snot out of each other is really a mixed martial arts competition. I am learning to have an appreciation for it, partly to enjoy something my husband enjoys...but there has been a side benefit as well. One I could not have anticipated.
Hang with me here. We are the proud parents of three boys (and one princess...but we are talking about the boys now) and anyone who has boys knows...boys like to roughhouse. It is just how God made them. I remember when they were much younger and they were horsing around in our schoolroom. Ian (who was 5 at the time) was spinning Reagan (3 yr old) around and around and got the bright idea to let him go and see what happened. Well, I am sure you can imagine what happened next. That's right. Reagan was propelled across the room with such super-sonic force that even though he hit our cushy upholstered couch, he hit with such force it split his head open. Who knew that even a somewhat soft surface could do such damage?
It's worth noting here that my husband gets freaked out by blood... especially if it comes from his family. And head wounds bleed. Profusely. So, after hearing not-your-normal screams from the other part of the house, we both rushed to the scene. Hubby arrived first. and FREAKED OUT. He wanted someone to call 9-1-1. I arrived just seconds later. Reagan was already holding a wad of paper towels over the gash so I could not appraise it, but I felt that 9-1-1 might be overkill. So, while my spousal unit hyperventilated, I called a paramedic friend of ours. He gave me specific instructions to tell if the wound needed stitches and a trip to the ER would be in order. I removed the paper towel to assess the site and almost passed out myself. I could see the BONE girls. I get shivers now, just thinking about it.
Well, long story short, boys usually equal roughhousing which could equal blood and in our case, six stitches (so far). As I mentioned, my husband has been pretty freaked out at the sight of blood in the past. Here is the UFC connection. After a couple years watching these guys in the octagon beat the living daylights out of each other, he is a lot calmer. He has seen that it is possible to get hurt and live to tell about it. You can actually bleed, from the face/head and after a little superglue, be good as new. I know it seems to be an oxymoron, but it is true. Used to be, at the very sound of boys thumping and yelping, hubby would be like those dogs on linoleum who can not get traction. He could not get there fast enough. Now, it's more of a holler in their general direction. "Everything okay?"
Yep, it's all good. And that's why I like the UFC. Which, by the way, stands for Ultimate Fighting Championship.
Comments
May. 2, 2008 - Thanks
Posted by Lauren
Love your blog!!
