05: Mats.

It’s a frivolous accessory. I’ll admit that from the top.

This month’s newest and most controversial houseware is a wrestling mat, freshly rolled out of five-foot long boxes from the fine folks at Dollamur.

It was a purchase I had contemplated for months as winter forced my workouts into a frigid garage or a sparsely decorated basement. The thin yoga mat did its job above the laminate flooring. But my own fantasies of an aspirational home gym and stupidly expensive yoga mats left me wanting a safe space for stretching, mobility, workouts, and the occasional bar-side grapple.

Enter: An even better purpose for the purchase. Little W is at the almost-crawling stage. There’s rolling. Head bouncing. Gripping. Sitting. Flailing. Slapping. Then when you look away for a half-second, more rolling. The living room is fine for a carpeted open space, but toys and blankets and dogs make it imperfect for learning movement and safely getting from Point A to Point Was That A Grunt Or A Dirty Diaper?

Of course, T laughed and shook her head at the purchase, which is (probably) higher quality than a 31-year-old washout youth wrestler and infant require. I went with the multi-purpose vinyl top for longevity’s sake, so no wrestling circle here and it has a tatami grain finish. I’ve already enjoyed it for workout warmups and a quick obligatory yoga session.

But the easy highlight came in the first full day of setup in the basement. While rooting for guys from Iowa, Iowa State, and Northern Iowa at the NCAA Wrestling Championships on the nearby TV, my little homie couldn’t get enough mat time. He was laughing and learning and we got to relax and lay around.

No pressure on his athletic future – seriously, no pressure, dad just has a Flexi-Connect unit downstairs and works in sports and will relax, yes, it’s fine – but we’ve already had some way-too-early moments to savor on the mats.

Think that means it was worth it.