Mixed Bag of Results
Filed under: Growing Pains, Mental Strain for Mama, Tales from the dojo
The minute I saw Big I’s face when I picked her up from school, I knew I wasn’t going to get a good report. She looked tired, deflated, and just plain sad. She started crying before we reached the car. The day was too long, she missed me and Lil C too much, and she just wasn’t going back to do that again.
We eventually got to the good stuff. Her teacher is nice. She had fun seeing her friends again. Lunch wasn’t so bad. There were two recesses (Man, who wouldn’t love that???). She’ll get used to it. She was like this last year with Kindergarten. First grade is going to take some getting used to as well. I’m really happy she has a four day weekend, and that next week is another short week. She needs a gradual introduction to this all day business (and to be honest, so do I). I must say though, that I held up way better than I did last year. I had a teary moment or two, but that was it. At least one of us made it through the day without full on tears.
After a couple hours of decompressing, Big I and I made our way to our new dojo. It only took us about eight minutes to get there (during traffic-I’m so loving the shorter commute), so we were early. We stood outside and talked about what we thought it was going to be like. Big I was excited, but nervous. I was feeling the same.
Then, a fabulous looking motorcycle drove into the parking lot and there was our new teacher (an impressive 9th degree black belt even without the motorcycle entrance). With such an outstanding entrance, Big I was already losing her nerves. "Is that my teacher?" she asked excitedly. Once inside, she was also very floored by the various pictures on the walls of our new teachers from magazines, newspaper articles, etc. I explained who they all were, and she marveled, "Wow! They’re famous!"
We changed, got situated, were introduced and then started our work out, and a work out it was. There were a couple hundred kicks (from a ground-fighting position which was new to us and pretty cool). Yes, I will be paying for those cool kicks tomorrow. The muscles are already starting to complain a bit.
The higher ranks separated and did kata while Big I stayed with the lower ranks and worked on something else. I don’t know what they were doing because I was concentrating on my own stuff; but I do know that she excitedly talked to me about seeing how to break that "muscle" which most people know as the collar bone on the way home. I informed her that it’s actually a bone, for future reference. That only increased the excitement.
At the end of the two hours, I’m pretty sure there was steam rising from my head, and my gi. . . well, it needs to be washed and badly. It was a great work out and a fun night. It felt awesome to be back in karate class again. I’m happy to say that my neck seems to have held up pretty well. I’m sure I’ll have some soreness tomorrow, but that’s to be expected as I continue to heal.
Big I and I spent the drive home discussing our new dojo, and it’s quite obvious that she does not have the reservations about our new karate school that she obviously has about first grade. It seems that Big I and I will fit in there quite well. It already felt very comfortable. Today may have been a bit shaky with the first grade business; but tonight was an overwhelming success.
To all my regular commenters, comment moderation has been turned on until the spammers decide to give up. I got some of the most insane spam comments the other day and it just needs to stop. So, sorry about the delay in seeing your comments up there; but they will all get up there eventually as long as you’re not trying to get me to transfer funds from Africa or something. I appreciate all of your comments and will give you free reign soon. Promise.
Also, one of my fabulous readers along with her "zoo" is walking for the Humane Society. If you’d like to contribute to her efforts, go here. You can also click the link in the sidebar.
Bring the DRAMA
If you know me personally, you know that I am not a morning person. I find no joy in seeing a good sunrise. I’d much rather be looking at the inside of my eyelids. When I was in college, I was frequently a no-show at any classes that started before 10 11 12, which is why I scheduled once a week three-hour long night classes instead whenever I could. Night I can do; morning I can not.
Knowing this, you can appreciate the fact that I was up at 6:50 a.m. this morning for Big I’s first day of school. By 7 a.m. I was dressed and my hair was actually brushed. That kind of action doesn’t usually happen until around noon. Hair brushing and college classes have the same standards.
At 7 a.m. I woke up a teary and very nervous Big I, helped her get a shower and blow dried her hair for her. By 7:35 a.m. the girls and I had eaten a nice breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast and we were out the door by 7: 39 a.m. in order to be about seven minutes early for the bus.
Last year, I drove Big I to school every day. This year, we decided we’d give the bus a try in the morning and I would pick her up in the afternoon. So, there we were, standing at the bus stop. Big I was pacing nervously and breaking out into the occasional jumping jack to ease the nerves. Lil C was standing there in her jammies and croc’s nibbling on a piece of toast. . . and there was no bus to be found.
I forgot to bring my cell phone to the bus stop so I didn’t know what time it was, but I was starting to get nervous. Some landscaper guys pulled up nearby and I yelled to them and asked them what time it was.
8:00 a.m. on the dot.
WHAT????
The kids line up at 8:05 to go up to their classrooms. Obviously the bus was not coming.
We ran to the car and I drove like a maniac to get to school. As I was getting the girls out, Big I’s bus pulled up. I walked over and said, "Hi, you were supposed to pick my daughter up this morning and you didn’t." She smiled, and then said "Oh, where do you live?" I told her, and she said, "Oh, I forgot about that stop today. I’ll be there next week. Sorry about that."
WHAT????
How do you just forget about a stop? What if I didn’t have a car? Big I would have missed her first day!?! I’m thinking this whole bus riding thing just might not happen. Thank God she’s not riding the bus home. What if the driver just "forgot about that stop" and never brought her home?
So, we ran inside the school. There were crying Mom’s. I’ve SO been there. There were crying kids who were refusing to go to their class (all Kindergarten boys); and there was mass confusion. Despite the fact that Big I packed her lunch today, they made her get in the lunch token line just so she "gets used to it." While in line behind about 20 first graders, they called her class to line up. The class lined up and left.
Eventually, Big I made her way through the token line, and found her way over to the other lost first graders. They made their way up the stairs and I certainly hope she made her way to her classroom. The good thing is that with all the chaos, she didn’t even have a chance to be upset or nervous at school. I’m just hoping that when I pick her up today, she is all smiles, like she was yesterday lounging with her sister.
Only 1 hour and 43 minutes until I’ll find out.
Yeah, I’m missing her terribly.
New Beginnings
Today was the last day of summer vacation for Big I. We spent the day having a picnic in the park by ourselves (since everyone else started school days ago), skipping stones across the creek, and taking about 4000 slides down the sliding board. We also traumatized Lil C a bit by making her go down a big tunnel slide.
Tomorrow, Big I will go to first grade. It seems like just yesterday that I was sobbing my way through her first morning at Kindergarten. I’m hoping I can hold it together tomorrow, because she is beyond nervous. She’s excited that she’ll be in class with her best friend, but the whole staying through lunch thing is just really bothering her right now. I think I’ll be packing a bit of chocolate in her lunch box tomorrow, because we all know chocolate is a cure-all. Something tells me that recess will be as well.
I’m also a little worried about Lil C. The girls are constantly disappearing to play dress up during lazy afternoons, and have made a fort a day in the living room. Without Big I around to entertain her, that job falls to me. I’m going to have to tune up my fort making skills pronto and figure out how I’m going to fit in a size 5 Cinderella dress. It’s going to be a rough transition for me and Lil C without our event director around during the day.
Tomorrow isn’t the only new beginning for us. Tomorrow night, Big I and I will venture out for our very first night at our new karate school. I got the o.k. for kata and basic’s last week from my doctor. I’m still not allowed to have any contact that’s going to jar my neck and no one is allowed to throw me; but that is temporary (probably for the next month) and then I’ll be back as good as new. Most of the neck soreness is gone, although I realize that it’s going to take some time to build up that crazy damaged muscle in there to where it was before.
Due to some circumstances out of our control, continuing to go to our original school became impossible. Because our former karate school approved a transfer, Big I and I are able to stay within our original federation, which means we’ll be able to keep our rank and have a much easier transition. It’s also a much shorter commute; and I have a babysitter super close for nights when Mr. BBM’s schedule and karate are just not meshing (which is pretty much always).
I already know a lot of the people there, having met them at the past two training camps, so I’m very excited. Big I is pretty excited too. She actually began telling me she was missing karate last week, so it seems like a short absence made the heart grow fonder. That can only be a good thing. It’s going to be exciting to see what kind of progress she makes now that she’s feeling motivated.
I’m going to really miss some people at my old dojo. There’s a little girl who was going to be testing for Shodan with me. She’s a sweetheart with great skill. There’s another man, a Shodan, who was always a fabulous partner and great lunch pal at training camps. He was also a paramedic who watched me nervously when I was 34 weeks pregnant with Lil C and still trying to keep up with class. I knew I was in good hands in case I went into labor early though. That statement made him even more nervous!
There are also some fabulous little kids there who I loved watching progress; and a brother and sister Shodan duo who were always willing to jump back out on the floor and help get me unstuck on kata’s. I also had some great instructors there: one who helped me graduate from foam to wooden nunchaku after much mental counseling and encouragement, ones who spent extra time helping me when I was stuck or frustrated, one who helped me rid my apologetic ways from karate, and those who instilled the love of karate in me from day one. I truly made some great friends there.
I certainly won’t forget where I came from, but I am excited about where I am going. The instructors where I’m going are excellent. I know because I spent time learning from them at training camps in the past. There are 9th, 8th, 7th and 4th degree black belts who teach there (there may be others, but those are the ones I know of right now). I am sure that Big I and I will be in good hands there, and we’re excited to begin our new adventure.
As far as I know, I think I should still be o.k. for Shodan testing in February. Of course, that will be up to my new instructors; but thankfully the neck injury was now and not closer to testing. If it had to happen, it was a good time for it.
So this blog will now probably head back to its karate roots. My summer of tentatively nursing a neck back to health has come to an end. Let the new school adventures begin. . .
Rehab
This weekend was just the rehabilitation that any stay-at-home Mom needs. I spent the afternoon sitting in a beach chair, watching the waves, surrounded by good friends, good conversation, and good entertainment. . . .like this for example. . . a self-burial job:
Did you know that British men can turn into leprechauns? I sure didn’t. After this little beach stunt, "RV" (the very cool new husband of my very cool friend) went running off to the sea because he said he had, "sand in me pants." You gotta love the British sayings and accent. It’s just so darn cute. Here’s the very happy couple with a bit less sand. . .
After the beach, we had some refreshing drinks on the porch, before being picked up by some crazy cab driver to go to dinner. We went to a very nice restaurant called "Mia" inside one of the resorts nearby.
This is one of the four servers we had while in the restaurant.
Sheila was awesome, right up until she brought the check and I almost passed out. Can’t read it? It says that the gratuity is $77.48. The total check amount was $493.48.
This restaurant marks the very first time that I spent that amount of money on dinner, but still left hungry. My dinner consisted of about three slices of chicken and two tablespoons of lobster risotto. It was fabulous, but may have been more suited for a little leprechaun (who, by the way, happened to come along for the night out).
We then made our way down the boardwalk to a comedy club. Heels and boardwalks don’t really mesh well, so a couple of the girls and I negotiated a good rate on this "royal rolling cart." The first guy didn’t want to take four of us and was asking for a ridiculous rate, so we huffed off with attitude and were chased down by this lovely man Ali from Turkey who truly got a workout pushing the four of us down the boardwalk. I include the "before" picture of Ali because afterwards he was in need of some CPR, fluids, etc.
Since we didn’t arrive early enough at the comedy show, (and also probably because we were WAY younger than the median as far as the audience went), we were seated in stadium like seating with leprechauns in mind (Are you sensing a theme here?). We spent much of the comedy show wiggling around trying to figure out what to do with our legs. Luckily, my shorter friend switched seats with me so I could hang my legs out in the aisle.
When we weren’t wiggling, we were trying to figure out why we weren’t laughing very much. Tickets to the show were pretty expensive, and all three comedians disappointed. When the second comedian starts almost every joke with "I’m from Oklahoma" you know you’re in for a rough night. "RV," the only man in our crew, actually began to shout pleadingly for him to leave the stage, as in "You suck. Get off the stage." There’s a certain charm when you hear a man with a British accent saying those types of things, which probably explains why we didn’t get kicked out.
We should have all joined in the heckling; we certainly all felt the same. But we were hoping for something better with the headliner (I must also state here that although the comedians were a big disappointment, the complimentary popcorn was not).
When the Oklahoma man was finished with his dismal routine, the headliner came out. By this point, we were all feeling tired and not amused in the slightest. The comedian took one look at his audience, noticed all the white hair and proceeded to make almost his entire routine about viagra and cialis. I don’t know about you, but I get enough emails about that stuff. I certainly don’t want to hear about it in a room full of old men. It was just wrong.
We all needed some pumping up. Our choices were to either wait in line for a dance club and pay a $20 cover, or pay nothing and go hang out at the karaoke bar, Planet Rose. Karaoke it was. . .
While it’s fun to watch strangers singing, it’s more fun when it’s someone from your group of people who gets up there. I’m a good friend like that, so I put my name in and recruited my back-up singers and dancers. There was an hour wait, during which time my back-up girls and I warmed up our vocals on "Girls just want to have fun" and "Livin’ on a Prayer." We were ready, and then it was our turn.
I belted out Amy Winehouse’s "Rehab" the best I could (I could have also received a dental exam apparently). My back-up girls did a fabulous job singing the "No, No, No" chorus, and danced like there was no tomorrow.
I’m guessing it was at least a decent performance because I got several high 5’s on stage, and after the performance one very slurred "awesssoomee" from some guy who could hardly open his eyes.
Anyway, I think I have a new karaoke song. If you’re not familiar with the song, here you go:
Here’s another karaoke performance of "Man in the Mirror" by some of the girls in the crew, with some random guys who offered to help out.
I’ve never been out to a place that stays open past 1 or 2 a.m., but this place did and the next thing we knew, it was after 3 a.m.!
We got another crazy cab driver to take us back to the beach house. "RV," being the British gent that he is, grilled up some hot-dogs (I was sort of surprised he wasn’t serving up Lucky Charms) and we all eventually made our way to bed around 4:30 a.m.
We spent the morning eating bagels and rehashing the nights events. I got home yesterday around dinner time after hitting tons of beach traffic on the way home. I didn’t mind though. It gave me plenty of time to work on perfecting "Rehab" in a car with good acoustics.
When are we doing this again???
The Ultimate Break
I can hardly contain my excitement. I have not had a single night to myself (away from Mr. BBM and the girls) since. . . well. . . I’m thinking somewhere about 1996. This weekend changes all of that.
A college friend of mine got married in June. It was a surprise wedding, and we never had the chance to send her off in true bachelorette style. So, her sister organized a weekend at the beach for her and a bunch of her friends from college. We are all going to hang out at the beach for the day. Evening will bring drinks on the beach house porch, dinner at some swanky restaurant, and tickets to a Comedy Club. I’m hoping for some dancing action after that (We all know that BBM likes to get her groove on).
I didn’t think that guys carried the same jealousy gene that girls do, but apparently I was wrong. At dinner tonight, I told Mr. BBM not to give away all of his one dollar bills because I teased, "I might need those." "Ye-ahh," he grumbled "same rules apply to you as they always have for me." "What rules?" I responded and laughed. Mr. BBM didn’t find it so funny. Heh, heh, heh, it’s always entertaining to mess with a man’s head for a bit.
Then I told him I needed to do some laundry before I can pack my bags. I told him I have no suitable underwear in my drawers. "Who’s going to be seeing your underwear?" he yelled up the stairs at me. "No one! I hope!" I screamed back. Seriously, at this age, it’s all about comfort and not looking like an idiot in case they happen to stick out the top of my jeans or something stupid like that. I’m no teenager; I do have pride. But apparently, he’s a bit worried about this all girl weekend.
I’m guessing that this weekend will probably be pretty tame. After all, most of us have husbands, kids, and a couple wrinkles by now. I haven’t seen many of these gals since I graduated from college back in 1997. I just hope none of my college buddies have traded in the low-rise jeans for Mom jeans and the Mom hair-cut. I sure haven’t. Mr. BBM’s worries are truly pretty silly.
His attitude could be because the last time I went to a bachelorette party, things got a little crazy. I’m always the designated photographer; and I have multiple pictures of a certain cousin of mine dancing with about 30 different guys. I also came home relaying this funny story about how a few of us gals took a rickshaw ride and decided we’d sing Ice Cube’s "You can do it, put your back into it" to the bike rider the entire time he lugged all of us up a huge hill while we laughed hysterically. We weren’t laughing at him; we were laughing with him, I swear. We also gave him a giant tip for treating us to such an entertaining ride.
For some reason, Mr. BBM was not amused when he saw my pictures. I told him he should just be glad that I was the one taking the pictures, not the girls in the pictures (I won’t include those here in order to protect the innocent err yeah, not sure what to put there).
We didn’t just party though that night. I also spent a lot of time discussing hair gel with this dude because seriously, where was that stuff in the 80’s when I was having issues with my bangs?
Have a great weekend everyone! You and I both know I will!
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