July 20, 2007

Karate Camp Day 1 and Injury Report

Day one of summer training camp was today. I had an opportunity to train with Hanshi Miguel Ibarra in Aiki-Jujitsu and Kyoshi Bill Hayes in a style of Shorin-Ryu Karate. I also had a training session on some sword techniques from a 6th Dan, and another session with another Kyoshi and two 6th dans.

I am one of only about four brown belts at this training camp. The rest are all varying degrees of black. There’s nothing like a training camp with that kind of company to make you feel completely insecure about your own skills.

I did learn some really cool things. I’m just worried I’ll have to go back to camp in a complete body cast tomorrow. This skinny bod of mine just doesn’t bounce back in a day the way it happens for kids and young men.

I realize this post is rather disjointed. I’m going to blame that on the bell ringing that took place today when I was dropped on what felt like my neck/head during the aiki-jujitsu session by an aiki-jujitsu black belt candidate. I’ve got a brush burn on the back of my neck to prove it. This post will also serve as a public service announcement to anyone out there thinking that they can wear their wedding rings while doing martial arts. When I was dropped earlier today, I must have landed badly on my left hand. After the static spots cleared, my diamond looked more like a ruby and my fingers had blood on them.

As of tonight, the injury report is as follows:

Two cut fingers from wedding rings (pinky and middle finger)
One jammed middle finger
One bruised upper pinky knuckle
An entire hand experiencing some hurt (yes, you should totally thank me for even trying to write a post)
One extremely stiff neck that is spreading into the back, my shoulders, and all around my neck (front, back and sides).
One brush burn on back of my neck that hurts like you know what when I’m in the shower.
One foggy brain that saw spots after being dropped in what I will call a rather unfriendly manner.

Tonight, I got to watch black belt testing. I wanted to watch so I know what to expect. It was exciting to watch and gave me some good ideas of things I need to work on.

I’m not the only one who experienced an injury today. Today, Lil C through her head back into Big I and broke what appears to be a blood vessel on top of her nose. Her nose is bruised and was bleeding quite a bit today. I’m just hoping the poor kid doesn’t have a broken nose because she already has so much going against her in the genetic nose department in this family that I’m not sure any of us can handle a broken nose.

I’ll be heading back to camp tomorrow and am going to hope that I am able to turn my head from side to side and bend my fingers a little better. I did natural child birth right? What’s a jammed finger?

Enter ibuprofen and tub full of ice.

Edited to Add: There will be no more karate camp for me except for observation only (Maybe the dinner if I’m not too loopy from the muscle relaxers.) I saw a doctor this morning (Saturday) after waking up in agony. I have a severe case of whiplash/neck sprain that will require physical therapy starting next week. I’ve been prescribed muscle relaxers, some pretty heavy duty pain medication, a soft collar for alternating with ice application, and some gentle neck strectches. Someone please remind me to never try aiki-jujitsu again.

Posted by Black Belt Mama on July 20, 2007 in Tales from the dojo | 13 Comments

July 17, 2007

Extra, extra: Get your apologies. . .

Yesterday I went to the grocery store with the girls. When I left I was completely disgusted with myself. A woman cut me off in the produce department and I said "Sorry." I immediately stopped and considered making myself drop and do some push-ups. What the hell did I say that for? She cut me off, not the other way around. I began having an internal dialogue with myself about how ridiculous it is that I say "sorry" all the time.

In the next aisle, I walked in front of someone who was scanning the shelves for crackers. I said, "Excuse me" which is all that was really necessary. But just for good measure, I added a "sorry" on the end of that little courtesy. I was taken aback by myself. Why did I just apologize to that woman? I said "excuse me." What exactly did I need to apologize for? Nothing!!!

I made it through several more aisles without an apology. I was super conscious of it and a little bit shocked as to how much a part of my regular vocabulary that word has become (or maybe has always been).

In the ice cream aisle, I was blocking a woman and her cart. Instead of just moving out of her way, I said "sorry." I felt like smacking myself. I didn’t need to apologize. A simple "excuse us" would have done the trick, but there I was apologizing again!

When I left the store I had said "sorry" at least five times and exactly 0 of those apologizes were warranted. I had a conversation with my Mom on the phone about it and I told her that we really need to both stop saying "sorry" so much. My Mom does it ALL THE TIME too, which is probably where I get it from. My Mom agreed, saying that someone once told her that saying "sorry" when there’s nothing to be sorry for makes you appear weak. (I think some of my very wise readers said the very same thing just last week).

So today, my Mom and I took the girls shopping. We are walking through the mall when two young men, probably in their early 20’s, stepped back from a kiosk in the middle of the mall and one of them literally barreled into my Mom. And do you know what she did?????

She said "sorry." The two guys did not apologize. They didn’t say "excuse me" and they didn’t say "sorry". In fact, the guy didn’t even acknowledge that he had just plowed into my Mom.

I muttered a sarcastic "NICE" underneath my breath, (I’m trying to keep my public confrontations down to about once a month in front of the girls and I’ve already reached my quota for July) when what I really wanted to do was kick the back of his knee and say nothing the way he had done as he hit the floor. I didn’t. I stared angrily at the back of his fat head and walked on. Later, in the car, my Mom and I were talking about how ridiculous it was that SHE apologized to HIM. It was absurd, but that word just seems to pop out of me and my Mom like a reflex.

Now, more than ever, I am thinking that this whole "sorry" business is definitely a female thing; and I am making a conscious effort to not be so damn sorry all the time, both in and out of the dojo. It may be a female thing, but it doesn’t have to have a permanent place in my vocabulary. There’s certainly a time and a place for "sorry" but the unnecessary times and places definitely need to go.

So, what do you think? Is it mostly a female thing? If so, why do we do THAT???

Posted by Black Belt Mama on July 17, 2007 in Mental Strain for Mama | 26 Comments

July 16, 2007

My Education qualified me to do WHAT???

Thirteen years of school, Kindergarten through 12th grade.

Four years of college to attain Bachelor of Arts degree.

Twelve months of double graduate credits to earn Masters degree in one year.

So how on earth did I become a maid/short order cook/full time babysitter extraordinaire?

Don’t get me wrong. I love being at home with my girls and I love having kids. It’s just that there are some days when I feel like my time would be better spent banging my head against a wall.

Take today for example. This morning, during a rare moment where the girls were actually getting along, I was able to clean the kitchen and mop the floor. Thirty minutes later, Lil C came into the kitchen, opened the pantry closet, dumped a box of pop-tarts onto the floor, stepped on the one open foil pack smooshing it into the floor, before deciding that she’d rather have a cracker anyway. At least 40% of said cracker then ended up on the floor in about 4000 little crumbs. I got out the broom again.

Dry crumbs are no big deal, but after we returned from the grocery store today she insisted on having "razz-da’s" (raspberries) as a snack. She sat in her chair, eating her raspberries contentedly, right up until she decided it would be much more fun to chew one partially up and them whip it onto the floor. Since that poor little raspberry was all alone, it was only right that the bowl of raspberries followed the lone chewed up one onto the floor, spraying raspberry juice across my only temporarily clean kitchen floor in an instant.

Since "razzda’s" and "cwackers" are the nouveau thing to eat for dinner, Lil C then had an all out 35 minute long tantrum because I wanted her to sit in her chair and eat her chicken pot pie at dinner time. T H I R T Y – F I V E mind-blowingly-long headache-inducing minutes of nothing but screaming and streams of tears and snot. It was fabulous. Did I mention that I was trying to eat during this little incident?

The good thing is that Big I found the whole ordeal quite amusing, so at least one kid was content. I think that Lil C’s schedule is just all messed up right now. For the past three weeks, Big I has been having play/musical rehearsal every Monday through Thursday nights from at least 6-9 p.m., sometimes 5-9:30 p.m. This past week, she also had performances on Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. We’ve all been busy, exhausted and lacking our usual schedules.

This week is officially all about getting Lil C back on a schedule. Then again, on Friday I will start my three day karate training camp, so if all the kinks aren’t worked out yet. . . oh well. Mr. BBM won’t mind one bit, I’m sure, especially since tonight he is away on business and I have a hot date planned for myself with a Season 2 DVD of 24 and some yummy snacks. . .

And now Lil C is awake and screaming, after being asleep for only an hour. . .

So much for that.

Point my head to the nearest wall please.

Posted by Black Belt Mama on July 16, 2007 in Mental Strain for Mama | 11 Comments

July 12, 2007

Sorry I said “Sorry”

There’s a new rule at the dojo during my one instructor’s classes, and I’m not liking it one bit. The rule is this: If I say the word "sorry" I have to drop and do five push-ups. Five. Big deal, right? Well, with my genetic programming, I ended up doing at least 25 push-ups tonight.

I screw up and my instructor catches me. I say "sorry." Five push-ups. I hit him harder than I should. I say "sorry." Five push-ups. For me, saying "sorry" is as automatic as brushing my teeth in the morning or saying "thank you" when someone holds the door open for me. It’s going to be a hard habit to break.

My instructor says the "sorry" has to go before black belt testing. He also says I need to stop making faces when I screw up and sound effects to accompany those screw-ups. I swear it’s harder than working on kata and bunkai; and unfortunately he is exactly right about each of these little BBMisms. I’m afraid that this is what I’m going to look like by the time black belt testing rolls around if I don’t stop saying "sorry."

I was thinking tonight, that maybe I should just try to program myself to say something else. He said the word "sorry" is push-up inducing. He said nothing about the following phrases or words, "I apologize" or "my deepest apologies" or "regrettable" or "remorseful" or "repentant" or "penitent."

So the next time I screw up, if I feel a "sorry" coming on I’ll just say "regrettable" and see what happens. Of course, something tells me that the push-up tally will only increase if I try that. Then again, I’ve been meaning to work on my upper body strength so I’m going to just roll with it. . . right up until I wake up tomorrow, sore as hell, cursing myself for being so damn apologetic.

In other news, I found this interesting website where you can plug in your site and it gives you a rating, like a movie rating. Mine is as follows:

Want to know what that rating is based on? I kid you not. I get this rating because of the presence of the word "pooped." No wonder Karl is rated NC-17.

In the interest of starting off on the right non-apologizing foot, you won’t see me apologizing for my use of the word "pooped" or my PG rating.

Sorry if that offends you.

(Sigh)

I have a long way to go. . .

Posted by Black Belt Mama on July 12, 2007 in Tales from the dojo | 28 Comments

July 11, 2007

The Bubble Lady and the Shhher

At my local mall, there is a woman who works in a department store shoe department. She has worked there for decades now, and that’s not the only thing that has stayed the same. When I was a little girl, my Mom would take my sister and me to the department store; and while my Mom tried on shoes, the bubble lady blew bubbles from a bottle and wand that she wore around her neck. I adored that lady. There’s just something exciting about blowing bubbles in a department store when you’re a kid.

Today, Lil C and I were roaming the mall while waiting for Big I’s reading class to finish up. Because Lil C has long abandoned her love for the stroller, I brought along her little push car and it was working perfectly right up until it wasn’t. Lil C was standing there in the mall, walking the opposite direction almost constantly, and I was trying to get her back in her car. She wasn’t behaving badly, just being a typical one year old, wanting to assert some control over her shopping decisions.

And that’s when, out of nowhere, the bubble lady appeared. "Here," she said, "I’ll blow bubbles over the car and I bet she’ll sit for you." There, in the middle of the mall, the bubble lady worked her magic, blowing bubbles for Lil C until she was mesmerized. After a minute of bubble-induced happiness, Lil C was more than willing to get back in her car. I was elated; but the bubble lady didn’t stop there. To encourage Lil C to continue sitting in her chair, she got out a sheet of frog stickers and handed those over. We began putting the frog stickers on her car and she was thrilled.

"You know," I said to the bubble lady, "you used to blow bubbles for me when I was a kid." She laughed and said, "Really?" and I continued to tell her how much I had loved her as a kid and how much more I love her now as a parent. I truly believe there is a special place in heaven for the bubble lady, because anyone who helps a woman entertain her child and get more shoes in the process is truly a very special person.

Contrast this with the very rude shher in my daughter’s reading class only an hour later. I was feeling happy with the world after my encounter with the bubble lady. Lil C and I left the mall and went to pick up Big I. Parents are supposed to attend the last 10-15 minutes of class to hear what the homework is for the following week and get tips from the teacher. I arrived about five minutes before I needed to be there, because I wanted to make sure I was on time. I stood outside the closed door with Lil C and was going to wait until it was the exact time. The reading teacher smiled, and waved us both in.

Lil C and I went in and took a seat in the back of the classroom. Lil C is a talker. She was sitting on my lap and running through her inventory of favorite things: "Mommy, Dada, Big I (o.k. she doesn’t really call her Big I but I’m not telling her real name)". I quietly told her to whisper and then occupied her with looking at the pictures and credit cards in my wallet. She preferred the credit cards.

While this was going on, the kids were playing a game to end class. They were divided into two teams. The room wasn’t exactly quiet to begin with. And then, out of nowhere, came this loud "SHHHHHH." And again, "SHHHHHH," and on this second Shh, I whipped my head around to see one of the father’s Shhing me and my daughter from across the room. Being the involved parent that he is, he sits in the back of the classroom each week, apart from his daughter, busy with his own reading. At least when I was able to participate (when I had a sitter for Lil C) I was involved in her learning.

If you’ve been reading here for a while you know that I am not the type to be Shhhed. And don’t even think about SHHing my children. Seriously not cool. So, when I whipped my head around, I couldn’t help myself. I gave him a look that could easily put him 6 feet under and mouthed the exaggerated words "I. AM. TRYING. SHUT. YOUR. MOUTH."

I don’t think he was expecting that response from me. I think he thought I would rush Lil C out of the classroom, because God forbid Lil C or I interrupt the group game (which we weren’t doing anyway). I continued to look at him like I wanted to rip his head off, and he sheepishly looked down and away.

After class I stood around and waited to see if he would say something to me. I wanted him to, because I really wanted to tell him that he needs to mind his own business, and that if he ever thinks about Shhing me or my child again, he should strongly reconsider since I may need to then shush him. He instead looked intimidated and steered very clear of me.

I didn’t do anything wrong. I never would have even walked in that classroom with Lil C had the teacher not told me to do so. AND, it wasn’t like she was screaming in the background or even being loud for that matter. She was just talking occasionally in her normal voice. The Shhing was completely unwarranted.

Afterward I thought about the contrast between these two people. One sees a young child and decides to make her day (and therefore her mother’s); the other sees a young child and decides to reprimand for no reason and try (notice I said "try") to make the mother feel about two inches tall. It made me think about many different aspects of my life, and how the good and the bad are just inherent in life. I guess to really appreciate the good people in your life, you have to encounter some not so great people. Likewise, the unfortunate or bad things that happen in life, make the good moments and experiences that much sweeter.