Like a Sore Thumb
Filed under: Mental Strain for Mama, Things that get my gi all in a bunch
I recognized him instantly and it sent a chill down my spine. He stood there with a grocery basket in my grocery store. He wore a black baseball hat, a baggy t-shirt to match, and held an unlit cigarette in his hand. He stood apart from everyone else in the store. Instinctively, I held Lil C a little closer to me and was happy I hadn’t stuck her immediately in the truck cart.
I made sure to make eye contact with him. I wanted to send him a message that I knew exactly who he was, and that I am no one to be messed with. It wasn’t just my paranoia. My husband recognized him instantly too. After we were out of earshot, we both spoke at the same time, "That was definitely him."
About a month ago, I got an email from Family Watchdog. I had registered with them a while ago. Their site offers information on how to keep your children safe. They also offer notifications when a sex offender moves into your area. I have 111 sex offenders living in my area, but this email greatly disturbed me. This sex offender had moved .4 miles from my house, on the same street that I live on.
I was able to see his picture and some of the details of his arrest. When I took a walk with the girls a few days later, I realized that we often walk right past his apartment. It made me sick. I can deal with it when they live a few miles away, but within a few minutes walking distance is just entirely too close for comfort.
I don’t believe that sex offenders can be rehabilitated, especially those who go after children. People who go after minors have serious mental problems that can not be solved by a short jail sentence. I know all the issues with full jails, but I don’t think that convicted sex offenders should see the light of day. Why should I have to trust that they will treat me and my children with respect, when they have already shown once that they can’t?
I once read a research study somewhere that said that those who commit sexual assault are likely to be repeat offenders. My sister used to work with sex offenders. One day, one of the sex offenders attacked one of her co-workers. Once they’ve done it once, they will do it again. It’s only a matter of time and opportunity.
I know that they are walking amongst us all, but to recognize one of them so clearly in my own grocery store was so unsettling. I think about how I used to play outside for hours at a time when I was a little girl. My girls are under constant supervision when they’re outside. My parents never really talked to me about "bad people" when I was little. Sure, I got the "don’t talk to strangers" that every kid gets; but I have already had in depth conversations with Big I about what makes a good person, what makes a bad or dangerous person, and how she needs to handle herself if she’s unsure.
There are arguments that the problem is no worse today than it was years ago, and that crimes involving sexual attacks are picked up and blown up by the media. But it’s hard to deny that there’s a serious problem when you go to Family Watchdog, type in your address, and watch the screen light up with colored dots showing where convicted sex offenders live and work, within minutes of your home. When they’re also shopping at your grocery store, alongside you and your family, it really hits home.
Sore
Filed under: Mental Strain for Mama, Tales from the dojo
Wrap your entire house in bubble wrap and foam, and I guarantee you that my toddler will find a way to hurt herself. Lil C was playing in my bedroom while I was blow drying my hair when this happened:
Lil C, meet nightstand knob. Nightstand knob, meet Lil C. Why did she have to hit the knob at that exact spot??? WHY? WHY? WHY?? As if the dive into the nightstand wasn’t bad enough, you know? It took about an hour for it to stop bleeding. It wasn’t a fast bleed, more like a little build up that would drip eventually if not wiped.
I don’t know the last time you tried to dab blood off of a toddler, or put ice on a toddler’s injury but it doesn’t elicit a very cooperative response. Even after finding a Cinderella washcloth and pleading with her to "Please let Cinderella ‘kiss’ your boo-boo" it was pretty much a lost cause.
The good news is that we have no need for purple princess eye shadow when playing dress up, because Lil C has got the natural kind of eye color going for her right now. The gash is a nice burnt red, and the layers of rainbow-like goodness go down from there. Today, we have shades of purple, blue, red, pink, a bit of green and I can almost guarantee that tomorrow will bring with it a bit of buttercup yellow.
We are just one month shy of the big number two birthday, which means that the pictures may have been spared. She’ll look less like an UFC fighter by then, I’m hoping. I guess she just decided that she’s celebrating the NFL kick-off with her own personal flare.
She did this on Thursday. I would have posted about it earlier, but I have been unable to do just about anything without being in pain. My neck is fine. It’s the 100+ jumping jacks, the 50 killer crunches with legs in the air, and the multiple push-ups at the beginning of some classes that are making my life a bit unpleasant right now. It’s all part of the getting back in shape process so I’m dealing; but it’s not really cool when your husband knows he can poke you just about anywhere and you’re going to shriek in pain.
I spent time in karate classes this week working on moving drills, break falls, open hand kata, more weapons kata’s (bo, tekkos, etc.), and some cool self defense vital point striking with both open hand and some small dowels.
Yes, the neck injury girl said break falls. For non-karate-ka’s, practicing break falls means practicing the proper way to fall so that you minimize the potential for injury. Falling in the proper way means going against the natural instinct to break your fall with your hands alone when falling forward, or when falling backwards to go down on your spine, neck or head, all of which could cause serious injury (Trust me-I know). When you fall down on your side, the proper thing to do is keep your body in tight, and make a triangle between your torso, your leg (from hip to knee) and your arm, which slaps the ground a few inches away from your knee. I don’t know who this guy is but he does a pretty good demonstration if you’re interested:
We spent an entire class this week working on break falls, and I was happy to do so. I wasn’t brave enough to start from a standing up position, but I did make it up to my knees and that was plenty of practice for now. We also did karate rolls in class. I sat out for that part because I still need to be careful with my neck.
Although I don’t think that a proper break fall would have helped me when I got injured in July (because I don’t think I even had a chance to exercise proper technique with the way I was thrown), it was definitely a good thing to go over in baby steps, as we did. I did not understand the little nuances of the break fall before. I know I didn’t have the proper angle when it came to my slapping arm. I didn’t know that it mattered where you slapped, and was slapping out perpendicular to my body instead of angled V-like down toward my knee. It was the same with the back break falls. I thought you were supposed to put your arms out in a T position, when a V-position works much better to stop your momentum.
I ended up working out at the dojo for about six hours this week with three different instructors. It feels so good to get back to it, that I can’t seem to get enough right now. My injury break was like being stuck out in the desert. I’ve now found an oasis.
If this Post Doesn’t Bring in the Crazy Googlers, I Don’t Know What Will
Filed under: Just for Fun, Lessons I've Learned, Mental Strain for Mama
When I was in 5th grade, giving short drops to girls during recess was a favorite past time of the boys in my grade. For those who are not aware (and oh how lucky you are), a short drop is when someone comes up behind you and pulls your pants down to your ankles. It’s so not cool.
For weeks I had watched this terrible deed happen to my friends, and spent much of recess watching my back. And then one day, out of nowhere came a little punk, who grabbed my pants and ripped them down around my ankles. Thankfully, my underwear didn’t go along for the ride; but that didn’t mean I wasn’t completely humiliated. I spent weeks feeling horrified and embarrassed. My classmates had seen my underwear and it was awful.
Unlike many of the girls who didn’t report it, I made it my business to make sure that my short-dropper got the business, and he did.
Fast forward 22 years. . .
Mr. BBM got free Hershey Park passes for the entire weekend, so we took the girls and brought along our swimsuits since there’s a new water park called "The Boardwalk." Big I and I took a whirl down the "Whirlwind" which was the most amazingly awesome water slide I have ever been on (It’s the big yellow and blue one if you click the link and take a look). Mr. BBM then took his turn with Big I while Lil C and I explored.
It was during our exploring that we saw "The Waverider." If you’d like to see The Waverider in action, go here and click on Podcast 2. Go explore-I’ll wait. Come back because you won’t want to miss this.
(Tapping foot patiently.) Ready now? Good.
Lil C and I spent a ton of time just watching the surfers. It was awesome! There were tons of wipe-outs, an occasional seemingly pro surfer, and lots of in-betweens. I told Big I we just had to try it.
We waited in line for an hour. My original plan was to hang out in line with Big I and then skip it myself, but Big I kept insisting that I give it a try. Big I went first.
I have to be honest; I was super worried. I had watched kids her size get slammed back into the wall at the top of the ride. I had watched kids lose the board and literally eat the wave. Instead of wiping out, Big I rode that wave like a champion.
During her ride, the lifeguards decided to have a conversation about something, and she continued to ride that wave like an absolute pro for far longer than anyone previously had done.
At one point, she even turned around to smile at me as I stood watching her at the top of the wave. She was absolutely stunning and didn’t wipe out once. I was super proud of her, but she was a tough act to follow!
A couple VIP’s cut in line, so by the time it was my turn, I was super hot and wanted to take a dip anyway. I decided I’d try surfing for the very first time. The guy who went in front of me lost his swimming trunks completely and ended up standing at the bottom of the wave in only boxer shorts, so I figured there was no way I could do worse than that.
Here, the lifeguard is giving me instructions.
It went something like this:
Lifeguard: Have you ever done this before?
Me: No.
Lifeguard: (handing me the board) Well, you hold on up here, tight. You stand on the star at the top of the wave and aim for the star at the opposite side of the bottom of the wave. If you want to go left, you lean left. If you want to go right, you lean right.
Me: O.k. but let’s get to the most important thing here. What happens if I have a wardrobe malfunction?
Lifeguard: Ma’am, that’s what the blankets are for. (He gestures towards the two blankets beside him-visible in the above photo.) I’ll cover you up.
Me: Promise?
Lifeguard: (With a completely straight face) Yes.
So, with much trepidation I took that board and walked to the star at the top of the wave. I watched all these kids go diving onto that wave with ease. I wasn’t sure I could be so graceful, but there was a line, so no time like the present.
I took the leap and surfed to the bottom of the wave.
The jets pushed me back up, and it was AMAZING! I was doing it! It was working! I lifted up the front of the board a bit and rode the waves with ease. I leaned left and slid across the wave. I leaned right and slid back to the other side. I wasn’t wiping out like the other people. I contemplated trying to spin or even get up on my knees. I wanted that "Look Ma, no HANDS" moment!
Then, the unthinkable happened. A jet of water hit the exact angle it needed to in order to dislodge my swimsuit, and within seconds I felt my bottoms. . . going south. There were TONS of people standing around the waverider area. There were men, women and children in line to my left. There was a crowd of on-lookers in front of me, another crowd to the right of me. . . and OH MY GOD. . . those people have a viewing angle from ABOVE me, which means. . .
ahhhhhHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! (Don’t you just know it that Mr. BBM would be all Johnny-on-the-spot with an opportune photo too! GRR!)
(Just so we’re clear, everyone who visits this site has an IP address. If you visit often, and/or have ever left a comment here, I know your IP address, which means I know when you’re here, how often you’re here, and exactly what you’re looking at while you’re here. Don’t believe me? Go visit Statcounter and see for yourself. Yes, you may think you’re stalking me unbeknownst to me; but actually I’m hip to your stalkerishness. You know how that creepy little kid in the movie sees "dead people"? Well, I see you. If you should attempt to click on the above picture, remove the strategically placed symbol in any way, or somehow blow up said picture, I will totally know about it. So do me a favor and just continue reading. . . Thank you.)
And now, back to our regularly scheduled program. . .
I reached back with my hand to keep my bottoms from ending up around my ankles. I caught them, but the reach did nothing for my balance of the board. The next thing I knew, the board went flying out from underneath my partially naked butt, back up to the top of the waverider. And then, my body did the only thing it could do. The powerful jets flipped me onto my back and I rode, Teletubby style right up the wave to where I had started. The water at the top of the wave was intense and started pulling my top down as well. I held on to my bottoms for dear life with my left hand, secured my top with my right hand and stayed there, flat on my back in the rapids, until I was sure I was covered back up again.
People were laughing (totally not at me people, with me, with me I tell you). I stood up, and there was the emotionally unavailable, non-blanket wielding lifeguard telling me I had another turn.
"DUDE! Where was the blanket??? Huh? You’re totally not doing your job!" I hissed at him while I continued to fix my disheveled swimsuit. "If I go again, are you going to do your job this time and cover me up???"
His face was completely unchanged as he said, "Yes Ma’am" and handed me the board that had been so violently removed from underneath me. People who call me "Ma’am" bother me greatly; but people who promise to cover up my butt and don’t follow through with said promise totally take the cake in the category of bothersome.
What’s a girl to do? Had this been 22 years ago, a devastated 5th grade BBM probably would have gone to cry in the bathroom. "Hershey Park just saw my butt! Waahhh!!!" But I couldn’t go out on that note, so I dove onto the wave again, and this time surfed flawlessly until my turn was over. Instead of ending my ride with a nudity-inducing wipe-out, this time I leaned to the left and surfed over to the safety of the padded wall and non-jetted water where I was able to get out with my dignity in tact.
Mr. BBM said that the consensus of the crowd was that I had been "good." There was no shortage of kids, especially boys, giving the waverider a try. I definitely think I got some cool Mom points today.
As I made my way out of the ride, there was some cheering. A couple little boys told me I was "awesome." (Geez, it’s practically becoming a trend.) Of course, we’ll never know if they were talking about my surfing skills or my butt; but either way, it was a compliment and I’m taking it.
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.
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