Hammer Time

March 28, 2006 by Black Belt Mama · 1 Comment
Filed under: Action Plans

My neighbor learned just how weird I was last year when she was helping me hang pictures on the walls. Instead of going to the basement to retrieve my hammer, I went right to my bedroom. My hammer was located beside my bed, propped against my nightstand with the handle end up. Hanging pictures in my room and felt too lazy to take the hammer back downstairs to be with its tool friends? No, the hammer was placed there strategically, much in the same way that a police officer places a gun in his/her holster.

The hammer wasn’t missing its tool friends either. Some random plumbing tool was keeping it company along with the wrapping paper under my bed. Its purpose? Well, my action-plan-demented-brain figured that any person who would break in my house in the middle of the night would go to the master bedroom. That’s where the goods are right? Potential items of interest for bad person: Adult who might try to stop robbery, potential jewelry and other valuables, money (which let me just save you some time as in, not, because I have about 30 cents in my possession at any given time.) Don’t believe me? Ask my mom who is constantly buying me lunch when we go out and always getting the tip too. Want a couple pennies to throw in the fountain? Sure, got that, but anything beyond that is pretty much not happening.

Anyway, back to the action plan. . . I’m sleeping, someone comes into my bedroom. I hear them and casually drop my arm down the side of my bed. . . and in one broad swooping swing, I no longer have a problem. Bad person. . . does.

This action plan was formulated courtesy of the job that kept my husband traveling an insane amount of the time. He was gone so often that I would occasionally wake up in the middle of the night, convinced there was someone breaking in, go retrieve my sleeping daughter from her bed, place her in my bed, and lock the bedroom door behind us. I may or may not have pushed furniture in front of that door. I know. It’s a little crazy, but I needed to sleep. Without the action plan process already in motion there would be no sleep.

So, my neighbor got a laugh from my strategic tool placement; and I got a good nights sleep. The hammer made that possible. I love hammers, which is why when my neighbor emailed me the link to this story, about a girl who used a hammer to fight off her kidnapper, I knew it was a girl after my own heart.

http://www.nbc17.com/news/8186167/detail.html Is she amazing or what?

The arsenal of basement tools has since been returned to the basement; but the bedside protection still remains in the form of wooden nunchaku. Oh, and an alarm system that I insisted on having installed since my attack cats are always on the fritz.

Tags:

Action Plans

March 21, 2006 by Black Belt Mama · 2 Comments
Filed under: Action Plans

Some might call it a form of mental illness. Perhaps it is; but I call it being prepared. For as long as I can remember, (and more so since I’ve become a Mommy,) I’ve had in my head what my family and I lovingly refer to as "action plans." Action plans are simply this: pre-thought out "actions" that will occur in certain situations including, but not limited to things like:

an unsolicited knock at the door by trench-coat-wearing-petitioners, sales persons, or religious zealots, in which case the scenario is pretty much the same as a fire as in, "Stop, Drop, and Roll" (to the nearest wall where one can not be seen or heard under any circumstances by someone standing at the front door and stay there for at least five minutes or until Mommy gives the "all clear."

a dog loose in the neighborhood while we play outside (Action Plan would be to elevate the children in any way possible, such as placing the kids on top of a car or preferably a mini-van (if the adrenalin is pumping enough) while Mommy fends off the dog with yet-to-be-learned karate vs. dog techniques until children can be brought safely inside or dog is somehow contained.)

They’ve been a constant source of entertainment for my husband and mom, as in "What would you do if ‘x’ happens?" It only takes me a second to get going because in some form or another, I’ve already thought them out and thoroughly, Jack Bauer style. Got a wrench to throw into my plan mid stream, as in unsolicited team of sales persons are now at both front and back doors? Bring it on; I’ve got the answers. My family is always shocked to hear me answer without hesitation in explicit detail about how I would deal with virtually any situation. While they laugh, I’m streamlining my action plan for possible implementation. I’m quite serious about them, and am rarely caught without an executable plan.

This is how they come about. I see something on the news or in a TV show that gets in my head. Maybe it will be something about how unsuspecting children were playing when a swarm of bees attacked, or maybe it will be something more sinister. Either way, I come up with a series of events that would take place if said terrible thing would happen to me. I know, it’s a little crazy; but it makes me feel better knowing I’m prepared for anything, and that’s all that really matters.

When I was pregnant for the second time, my action plans were in overdrive. So much so, that when a young pregnant woman was attacked in the Midwest by some crazy loon who wanted her baby, I went to karate that week and asked my instructor to please teach me immediately how to fend off a knife attack. My instructors are happy to feed the frenzy of my action plans. One instructor spent an hour teaching me all the different ways to get away from someone with a knife. His shoulder was recovering at the time from an injury; and in one overly energetic move, I fended off the rubber knife and simultaneously did something to his shoulder that sounded like a twig snapping. He walked it off; I felt terrible. But I found out it worked and the lesson continued. . .at a little bit slower pace.

At my local grocery store, a woman was forced into her own car with a gun at her back by two armed men and driven around the city for hours before finally being released unharmed. I immediately developed a plan of attack for such an occurrence should that ever happen to me. That week, a pregnant me learned the fine art of swinging my elbows in the style of "Eww, back off, I so do NOT want to dance with you" to move a gun trajectory out of the way of important parts like, oh say, my head, chest, etc. and I felt much better about going to the grocery store again.

The truth is, I am so hyper aware when I am out in public or even in my own yard that the likelihood of some stupid criminal deciding that I am a worthy target is probably slim to none. It just wouldn’t be worth their while to attack someone who is so vigilant and constantly paying attention to her surroundings. And if they did decide to attack, well, let’s just say that I already know that I don’t freeze up when someone attacks me. I’ve been there in the past and the recipient of my wrath was not a very happy camper (and that was pre-karate).

It doesn’t matter if you are 5’2", 90 lbs. and your attacker is 6’8" 280 lbs. I’ve learned that you may not be able to overpower your attacker in the traditional sense; but there are so many cool untraditional ways to make your attacker beg for mercy. I am 5’9"; my husband is 6’3". He’s also got me by about 60 lbs. (Oh, you totally thought I was going to give our weights, didn’t you! So not EVER going to happen, especially with mine, and now that you have the formula, Mr. B minus 60=me. . .I’ll never tell you Mr. B’s either so just get it out of your head). Anyway. . .

I often come home from karate all keyed up with what I’ve learned that evening and with school girl excitement tell my husband, "Come on, grab me in a bear hug," or "Grab my arm like this." Usually, he obliges so quickly that I have to stand there for a few seconds and collect my butt-kicking thoughts before I work my moves. Sometimes they work; sometimes they don’t. Sometimes he’s hurting a bit; sometimes I pull a muscle or break a nail. But a few weeks ago I learned something very cool that will work on anyone. . .

All you need is one finger. Add to that one very unnatural angle to bend it, and you’ve got a winner. All you need is one finger to have someone begging for mercy. It totally works, and that one finger is just one of the reasons why I LOVE going to karate class each week. It’s empowering and confidence building. What bad guy ever thinks you’re going to take his pinky, or any finger for that matter, and have him begging for his mama?

None, and that is precisely why it works . . . (at least against my husband).