Self Defense against a Shower Rod
Our bathroom makeover is nearing completion. It is now possible for us to actually use our bathroom again. We still need to put the stone up around the shower stall and replace the flooring, but we’re taking our time with that part (i.e. waiting until we hit the lottery so we can pay someone to do it for us). Pictures will follow soon.
There was, however, one casualty in the bathroom renovation. My middle finger suffered quite an injury when my husband, a little loopy from paint fumes, started swinging shower rods at me Star-Wars-style in Target the other night. He smacked me on the butt a couple times as annoying husbands will do, and then I was done.
I brought my right arm up and was going to use an inside block/knife hand to knock the pole away from me, grab it, disarm him, and of course, retaliate. (The girls were with my parents by the way.) What I wasn’t counting on was the whack that came down across my knuckles from his other shower rod wielding hand. The rod smacked across my middle, ring, and pinky finger and it hurt. My middle finger took the brunt of the smack.
My husband thought it was pretty funny and kept saying that I "punched the shower rod," and that he didn’t hit me with it! Yeah, right. If I only had my tunfa handy at the time . . .
So, I told him that when he wakes in the middle of the night to find the shower rod jammed up his nether-regions, I’ll just tell him that he happened to roll onto it while sleeping.
That kind of thinking can work both ways, don’t you think?
Ooh, and this marks my 200th post!
Happy Hallmark Day!
Happy Hallmark and Florist Day everyone! When I was in college I spent two years working in flower shops and let me tell you that Valentine’s Day only comes with a negative connotation after that experience.
For days leading up to V-Day, I spent hours upon hours slicing thorns off of roses and stabbing my hands endlessly; and on the actual day I spent hours trying to get forlorn looking men in and out of the store in a timely fashion by packing up whatever flowers we had left into a presentable looking box. I was always glad to see the 15th arrive.
In elementary school, Valentine’s Day was fun. I carefully wrote out Valentine’s and delivered them with care to all my friends (and enemies because you have to in elementary school as Big I found out last night).
In Junior High, Valentine’s Day stopped being fun as hoards of girls got called to the office to pick up flowers that their boyfriends had sent to the school for them. Now that I think about it, they were probably flowers from their parents or from themselves, sent to make themselves feel special. How many boys in Junior High really had $50 or $60 to put out on roses?
I rarely had a boyfriend over Valentine’s Day, so it was always dull. High school was more of the same. I had a boyfriend for one year but the teddy bear and rose he brought me left me unimpressed. The feeling that I thought would be there just wasn’t there. It was a relationship that was going down the drain anyway.
But when I got home, it was a different story. Starting in Junior High, I think my Mom realized how tough V-Day can be for a boyfriendless adolescent. Valentine’s Day became a day when my Mom broke out the good dishes. She cooked up a feast, made a pink cake and as a family, we ate dinner by candlelight. My sister and I always got a little wrapped gift-not a lot, just something that made us smile.
It was so nice to know that we could expect a treat at the end of the carnation filled days. So, instead of waiting for Junior High, I started the same tradition in our family when Big I was just one year old.
Tonight, we will dine by candlelight, eat a special dinner and cake and both of the girls will get a little surprise or two. I hope that as they get older, they’ll continue to look forward to our special V-Day celebrations, and that it will make those boyfriend-less school days a little easier on them.
How will you spend Valentine’s Day?
On a different note. . . for my fellow karate-ka, if you have a heavyweight gi, what kind do you have and what do you think of it? Either leave me a comment or shoot me an email.
One time, at karate camp. . .
In the past two days, I completed 9.5 hours of training in karate, kobudo, and ju-jitsu at an IKKF (International Karate Kobudo Federation) training camp. Last night I went to bed earlier than my children, and tonight I am only awake thanks to a three hour nap that I took with Lil C upon returning home today. Exhausted is not enough to describe how I feel right now. Getting hit by a truck? That might be close.
I don’t know how to possibly describe everything that happened and what I learned over the course of the weekend, so this entry may be a little haphazard due to the multitude of information (and from the pounding headache and aching muscles and joints).
On Saturday, I spent time working on basic blocking drills, sai, nunchaku and tunfa. It was a brutal day that served up a giant slice of humble pie. So much for that confidence thing when in a room with very high ranking black belts and only a handful of lower ranked belts like myself. And I thought I was a high rank. Not exactly.
The first session was taught by Hanshi who is a 9th degree black belt. We went through the basic 10-step blocking drill and then he showed us how to block not just one level but one and a half. So basically what that means is that instead of just blocking something that might come at your stomach area or solar plexus, you’re also covering in case someone tries to hit you in the face. It seems like such a simple concept, but when you see the difference and add it to your drills it makes a HUGE difference. That session was very informative and gave lots of food for thought. I only wish I could have had someone there taking notes for me.
The next session was tunfa. Another high ranking black belt taught this session, which ripped through the tunfa kata’s at warp speed. I had trouble keeping up and found myself sacrificing good form for speed. I really hope that I won’t have to rip through the kata’s that fast when black belt testing rolls around. If so, I’m going to have to get to work on making things a lot faster.
We then took pieces of the kata’s and worked on bunkai (applying the techniques from the kata). The attacker came at us with the bo and we tried different blocks and punches with the tunfa. This was very cool, and really showed you that if you don’t block right, you’re going to get hit. Some techniques may feel awkward, but they’re there for a very good reason.
We then took a break for lunch and I got a chance to lunch with one of my instructors and another black belt from our dojo. We compared notes on the things we learned and I was very happy to have some down time. I really needed it at this point.
When we came back there were sessions on ju-jitsu and sai. I was interested in ju-jitsu but I was a little bit afraid to be quite honest. Some of the other students were calling that instructor "Sensei Pain" and I wasn’t sure I was up for it. I decided to stick with sai. Another high ranking black belt taught this session and we also ripped through this kata very quickly. He paused to point out lapses in technique here and there, but we did the kata a number of times before working on application. We used a bo vs. sai and that was a welcome reprieve from the extremely fast kata.
We wrapped up for the day and I went home with every intention of returning that evening to watch black belt testing. There was one woman testing for black belt and I wanted to take Big I back to watch. But when I got in my car and drove home, the girls were at my parents house, and I needed a rest.
I woke up this morning feeling stiff and exhausted despite the nine hours of sleep I got last night. I arrived at the dojo and the session choices were either ju-jitsu or bo-sai which is a 4th degree black belt kata. I decided I’d brave the ju-jitsu.
For people who don’t know anything about ju-jitsu, it’s a really cool martial art that uses joint locks and small movements to take out your opponent. You have to be really careful when practicing so as not to snap your partner’s shoulder, elbow, wrist, etc. I thought we would only get to the basics, but by the end of the session, we were working on some throw downs, mounts, and what I like to call martial arts "twister," because that’s exactly what it felt like, only the red spots that you see are in your head when your partner is cutting off the circulation to your brain.
Despite the occasional discomfort, I absolutely loved ju-jitsu. I can’t believe I was so afraid of it the first day. I wish I would have gone to some of those sessions. When the session was over, "Sensei Pain" invited us to come "play" at his classes which are local. I am so excited because I’d like to go at least occasionally and pick some new techniques up. I think it would be a great addition to what I’m already learning.
The final session of the day was a kicking drills session. Another high ranking black belt taught this session. He was a very good teacher, but very hard core. We started with some two-person stretches that were KILLER. Ju-jitsu was nothing compared to those stretches. If you’re shy, you have to get over it really quickly because there I was facing a person I didn’t know. Next thing you know, my ankle is on his shoulder and we’ve criss-crossed our arms in front across my leg and the pain, oh the pain. We then turned our foot behind our partner’s neck and got into a side kick position. Then, we took it one step further and turned so that our toes were facing downward over our partner’s shoulder in a back kick position.
After that we worked on kicking drills that are great for self-defense and for sparring. We moved very quickly and I was so tired at this point that I took a light kick here and there because my body and head were just not working together as well as they should be.
We wrapped up with a viewing of all the photos from the weekend. I look very serious is all the pictures I was in, especially the ju-jitsu twister pictures.
It was a weekend filled with knowledge, pain, and pushing myself to extremes. I have so much to work on and so much to learn. I feel like I’m starting all over again after this weekend. I need to make practicing a part of my daily routine if I want to excel. . .
And most importantly right now, I need some ibuprofen and a bed.
Pinan NiShoSanYonGodan
What? You don’t recognize the name of the kata I did tonight? Well, you wouldn’t be alone, because no one could recognize the kata that I did at karate class tonight.
Our instructor decided that we would all do an individual kata starting with the high rank. That was me. Joy.
I stood up and he said that he was going to pick a random kata. It could be current or review. Let me put it this way:
Open-hand kata’s that a 3rd kyu should know: 9
Weapons kata’s that a 3rd kyu should know: 5
Waza’s that a 3rd kyu should know: 8
Having your instructor choose one of the kata’s that has fallen victim to brown belt amnesia?
Priceless.
As I stood there willing my instructor to choose anything BUT Pinan Shodan, he chose just that kata. Apparently, black belts now have mad mind reading skills in addition to their karate know-how.
Several months ago at testing, another instructor asked me to review Pinan Shodan with a few green belts before they would test. I had no clue how it started. Once they showed me how it started, I thought I would be o.k. Usually, once you’re in the routine of a kata, it just comes to you. But it didn’t.
I felt like a complete idiot in front of these young green belts and their parents. I remembered how, as a white belt, I used to look at the brown belts and think, "Why can’t they remember their kata’s? That won’t happen to me." Yeah right.
So, my instructor got me started by showing me the opening moves and then I would go about five moves before freezing in disgust, and muttering "crap" underneath my breath so that my instructor would know he had to give me a hint. At one point, he told me "knife hands" and I looked at him with no clue and said, "That means nothing to me." It wasn’t until he said "naha turn" that I figured out where I was supposed to be. Once I got beyond that point, I was o.k., but talk about feeling stupid in front of a class full of mostly white belts.
Big I was the next highest rank and our instructor asked her to do the first kata, Nai Hanchi Shodan. She put together a creative little routine filled with some tentative blocks and some spirited snap kicks, but like her mother, she had no clue. Our instructor stood up and helped her and upon sitting back down we both agreed that we need to do some more work at home.
But before we get to that I have one more excuse for my pitiful performance. Pinan Shodan was right around the time that I was pregnant or just returning to karate after giving birth to Lil C, so I’m blaming childbirth amnesia. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
You watch. Some day there will be a kata called Pinan NiShoSanYonGodan. I’m just ahead of my time. . .
It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to
Today is the third anniversary of my 29th birthday. I decided at age 29, I was done with this whole highly over-rated aging thing. When I asked Big I if she knew how old I was going to be, she said 60. And here I thought my wrinkle cream was actually working.
Since turning "29", I’ve discovered a couple things about birthdays. Up until you turn 21, birthdays are pretty cool. Then, it seems that the big deal that used to be your birthday becomes just another day on the calendar filled with bills, chores, and other nonsense. People don’t make a big deal about your birthday anymore until you’re like 80 and have beat the average person’s life span. Then, it’s time for surprise parties and celebrations again.
I thought I would celebrate my birthday by including some pictures for your enjoyment and laughter (You don’t get through the 80’s as a kid without some serious fashion no-no’s). Plus, 9 out of 10 blog readers agree that pictures keep you coming back for more. So, here are some of the highlights from my "29" years of this Earth.
You might recognize these baby eyes in my munchkins? I’ve never been accused of having small eyes.
Here I am at age three, where my dream of being a pro-hockey player (or marrying one) began.
Here I am at age five, on "the good ship lollipop," sporting the ever popular Dorthy Hamill bowl cut.
Second grade, or the year of Mom cutting my bangs before school pictures.
The rest of elementary school is a mixture of more bad hair: boy cuts, first perms. . . and here is the spiked hair perm. What the hell was I thinking when I requested that style?
This is 9th grade when I got to meet my FAVORITE hockey player in the ENTIRE WORLD, Rick Tocchet. Notice the deer in the headlights look. I was shaking like a leaf when I met him. I realized that his head was like twice the size of mine and that I probably didn’t want to be birthing any hockey player kids (Instead I married a valedictorian with a big head anyway).
10th grade brought a longer and bigger hairstyle. It was the age of the spiral perm. My bangs never cooperated and besides an occasional zit, my bangs were my biggest teenage "issue."
Here I am with my best guy friend (who happens to be the designer for the banner on this site). The hair only gets bigger for a while. . .
See what I mean. This is my freshman year in college and I’m still loving the big hair.
Just one of many "ripped the jerk out of the picture" pictures. This is actually the last one, and you’ll see why in a few seconds. . .
Here’s my first car, after I bought a custom leather "bra" for the front of it to make it look "cool." I also had my best guy friend install a booming system that would make LL proud. In the end, I had to come to grips with the fact that it was still a Geo Metro with no AC. (My sister took over this car when I went back to college, put Animals Rights stickers all over it, and added Christmas lights to the back seat. I kid you not.)
Edited to add: Apparently my sister doesn’t recall the stickers. My Dad taught us to NEVER put any stickers on our cars, but I swear she taped them to the inside of the windows or something. I distinctly remember stickers. She also reminded me that there was an animated Santa standing on my booming system speakers in the back. Gotta love little sisters when they take over your car.)
Here’s a picture from the early days with Mr. BBM. Apparently I thought this pose was an appropriate enough one to let my Mom photograph us. Um, no, so NOT happening with MY GIRLS EVER EVER NEVER.
And four years later. . . one of our wedding picture.
My first moments with my first baby. . . Big I. I look like that because it was a very long and painful, but life altering and amazing day.
My first few hours with Lil C, after a shower because I didn’t want to subject you to two pictures of post labor and pain BBM.
Obtaining my brown belt in karate, which was such a cool day.
Meeting Sebastian Junger, because OMG!
Hanging out with Santa and the girls. . .
My most recent picture, hiding behind Lil C because Mr. BBM is determined to take the least flattering pictures of me EVER.
And that about does it. Happy "29th" Birthday to me! Enjoy the pictures. My family certainly enjoyed helping me pick out the school days ones.
Now where’s my cake?
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