Blindfolded
The next self-defense I have to learn is against knife attacks and "blindfold." I’m familiar with knife attacks. I spent an hour with an instructor back when I was pregnant going over knife self defense since they were the days of crazy people trying to take your baby. But blindfolded? I asked my instructor about it tonight and it’s as bad as it sounds.
You stand in the middle of the dojo, blindfolded. Other students have numbers and stand around you. The instructor uses hand signals to tell the other students which number goes first and they sneak up on you and attack. Punches and kicks are illegal, obviously, but grabs and holds are all fair game.
I’m not looking forward to it. Going with the whole confidence thing, I decided that I’m not going to show up at the dojo and be blindsided with it. I’m going to practice at home. Big I will probably think it’s a lot of fun if she gets to attack a blindfolded mommy, and my husband will probably think it’s a great opportunity to pinch my butt or something. Should be fun.
Doing my part as a Mommy Blogger
I’ve been really lousy about posting pictures lately so I thought I’d post some pictures from Christmas and beyond so you can see how much Lil C and Big I have grown.
Think these two look alike at all?
Here’s the Christmas card picture. Lil C’s cheeks aren’t usually that full. It’s just that to get her to sit still for more than 10 seconds at a time, we had to feed her a constant stream of fruit puffs and they, well, puff the cheeks a bit.
Here’s before the chaos started. Two sets of grandparents, great-grandparents, an aunt, a future uncle(?) and two parents who forgot that they started shopping in January for this year’s Christmas, and well. . . you’ve got a little bit of crazy.
I am BBM; Hear me ROAR!
You know that Justin Timberlake song, "I’m bringing sexy back, Yeaah. . . "? Well, that’s how I feel tonight except take out the word "sexy" and insert "confidence." O.k., I know, that doesn’t really sound like a hit song or anything. Three syllable words don’t really work with those lyrics, but it works for me.
I’ve been doing some thinking lately and I’ve been a little disgusted with myself. Recent karate posts have been all mopey-like. I’ve been feeling incapable and undeserving of my brown belt. I’ve been feeling like a black belt is so far away, and that’s all I’ve been focused on when at the dojo-the end goal. I made a conscious decision to knock it off. If I don’t have the confidence yet, I’ll at least fake it and see how that works out.
Well, faking it did this amazing thing. . . it actually started to feel real. I went to karate class tonight with the attitude that I was going to walk in there and nail each kata, that I was going to be in control of my punches and kicks and not just go through the motions. I wanted to go and just be completely "on." And on I was. I decided I need to stop worrying so much about what other people think about me and just concentrate on what I think of myself. I’m not going to be able to do my kata’s the way my instructors who have 10+ years of experience do. That is unrealistic. I’m going to do my kata’s the way I should be doing them and work on making them even better.
Karate was a variety of review and new material tonight. During the kata’s I already know, I worked hard on the little details. I thought about each little thing like the level the punches should be at, the angles I should be on, how high my kicks should be. I took a much more introspective perspective tonight and I really liked it. It felt like "me time" again and that always feels wonderful.
I feel like I’ve been in a rut for the past few months, like I haven’t really been feeling it and this rut has gone beyond karate. I feel like this lack of confidence has affected other aspects of my life. Some people in my life have been saying anything they want to me or about me, without any regard for my feelings, and it’s going to stop. I’m tired of being nice all the time and not saying anything back. That’s going to stop too.
Karate is much easier and more fulfilling when I concentrate on me and my journey.
And like karate, my life is more fulfilling when I’m not worrying about what other people think about me, when I feel free to say how I feel without someone criticizing me for my feelings. Life just feels better when I’m concentrating on the relationships in my life that are important to me. If a relationship isn’t a healthy one, if it’s one-sided, if it’s only really on the surface, it’s not really a necessary one. I’m getting rid of the baggage and lightening my load so to speak. I’m getting rid of the doubt, and the relationships that aren’t working for me. Just saying that feels fabulous.
I’ve been trying to get this point across to Big I. I’ve told her that she doesn’t need to be friends with everyone. I told her that there are probably a handful of kids that are going to be really good friends to her and those are the relationships she should be concentrating on. She doesn’t have to be friends with everyone.
She keeps coming home from school and telling me how "Sara" was being mean to her. The next day she comes home from school and tells me that now "Sara" is being nice to her. She doesn’t understand it and frankly, neither do I. At first, I thought it was just Kindergarten. It’s the age. Five-year olds are fickle. But I’ve since realized that people don’t really change.
Those little arguements and stupid things just become less about crayons and playground games and more about politics, relationships, or other issues. The really important thing is to be confident in who you are as a person. It doesn’t matter what "Sara" says or does to Big I. If Big I is o.k. with who she is, then it’s going to roll off her shoulders. I also told her to beware of people who can be nice one day and mean the next. They’re not true friends and not worth her worrying about.
People sense when others can be taken advantage of, manipulated, or disrespected. It’s the same reason why predators go after certain types of people. They don’t pick confident people who walk with their head high. They pick those who appear vulnerable.
I haven’t listed any 2007 resolutions because I typically break my resolutions three days after the fact. Giving up potato chips and chocolate is just not a scenario that makes me feel comfortable. So, I’m not going to call it a resolution. Instead it’s a conscious decision to do two things that I’ll also encourage Big I to do:
- Have more confidence. If you don’t have it, fake it until you get it.
- Choose to focus on relationships with people who respect your opinion even when its not their own, who allow you to be yourself (whether that "self" is bitchy, ranting, complaining, whiny, sad, upset, hurt, happy, etc.). . . people who genuinely care about your well-being.
I think this will make a world of difference at the dojo and in my life in general. Without the burden of keeping up with relationships that don’t work, Big I and I will both have more time for the things and people that really matter.
Now delurk already! Apparently, it’s International Delurking Week or something and you’re legally obligated to at least say "hi."
Searches III OR People are Strange
Stat counters are wonderful things. You can watch your visitor statistics rise (or plummet). You can see who is reading you and who is not. You can find out that you have one person in Iceland who must be obsessed with your blog, and you can also find out what search terms are landing people on your site. I’ve posted these results twice before, here and here. If you haven’t checked these out before, you really should. They’re usually pretty funny, and the following search terms do not disappoint. . . As before, I’ve provided some "theme" music for your listening pleasure. Just hit "play."
(If I had to "rate" the rest of this post as they do for the movies, I would rate it an R-Restricted. Proceed with caution if you have children who can read around you.)
A Work Out for the Faithful
We sometimes forget to get the mail (I also sometimes forget to check the gas gauge in my car and then end up having a near panic attack while driving Big I to school while wearing my pajamas, with no wallet, no purse, no cell phone, but that’s a story for another time). When we finally retrieved the mail after about three days, there was an invitation from my church to attend services this morning. Every year on this Sunday, they celebrate the baptisms that have occurred during the past church year. Lil C is one of those and we were invited to attend the service and pick up her baptismal medallion.
After a long afternoon at the zoo yesterday, Mr. BBM said he didn’t really want to go (The service I like to attend is at 8 a.m.), and so Lil C and I went by ourselves to church this morning. Once at church, I climbed about 30 steps to get up to the balcony where my parents were sitting. Lil C was great on Christmas Eve, sleeping through almost all of the service. Today, she was wide awake.
Lil C sang when we sang. She "talked" when the Pastor spoke, including during his homily. At one point during a prayer, she tested out her pipes and squealed at top volume. She also enjoyed dropping her teddy over the back of the pew and then remarking "Oh, OH, OH NO" which is her version of "Uh-oh." She also thought the wood floors were pretty cool, and especially liked how her shiny shoes sounded when stomping on them.
When church was over, I was perspiring and it’s possible that I pulled a muscle from all the bending to retrieve things she had thrown. Holding a 15-month old squirmer for an entire church service is exhausting.
We then walked back down the stairs, to the front of the church, and up to the parking lot which is not exactly a picnic in two inch heels with a child, purse and a diaper bag.
Because I felt like tempting fate, we then went grocery shopping. Lil C was an angel as long as I kept the constant stream of gold fish crackers coming her way.
In fact, it wasn’t until after I dropped off Lil C with Daddy, and attempted to bring the groceries in the house that my exhausted and weary body finally gave out. While attempting to carry in about 10 grocery bags at a time, I over-turned my ankle and ended up in an unbecoming squat on the sidewalk. Getting up from that squat in a skirt, with two inch heels, a sore ankle, a pulled leg and butt muscle (karate leftovers), and about 30 pounds of groceries was no small feat.
The agenda for the rest of my day involves my new TV, football, some ice, and some rest. Here’s to hoping Lil C is as exhausted as I am.
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