April 7, 2007

Musical Therapy

April 4, 2007

Syndromes

There are stages of learning karate that go along with the various belt colors.  It doesn’t matter what style of the martial arts you study.  I think these "syndromes" are universal; and yes, I have suffered through all of the following symptoms.

White Belt Syndrome

• After exactly one karate class, a white belt feels they will never move the way their instructor moves.  They also simultaneously believe they can now kick anyone’s butt.  It’s a dichotomy that makes perfect sense to the white belt.
• White belts are eager to learn, and see the journey to black belt as one big "To Do" list. The only thing that matters is learning the next thing, preferably advanced things, as quickly as possible.  The faster you learn, the cooler you feel.
• White belts can’t understand why higher ranked belts forget kata’s.  They will never forget a kata when they’re that high ranked.  A white belt will remember everything. 

Green Belt Syndrome

• A green belt is so shocked and surprised to find color around their waist that they immediately begin to feel unworthy.  Despite the unworthy feeling, they feel incredibly proud to finally be green.  This is also a dichotomy that makes perfect sense to the green belt.
• Because of this unworthy feeling, green belts feel that everything they do when in the presence of higher ranking belts completely sucks.
• Due to the sense of pride a green belt feels, they feel that everything they do while in the presence of lower ranking belts is totally awesome.

Brown Belt Syndrome

• A brown belt is so excited to finally be a brown belt.  This excitement lasts for about one day before realizing that the next belt is a black one and OH MY GOD, I AM SO NOT READY FOR THAT!  HOW WILL I EVER BE PREPARED IN TIME???? I NEED TO PREPARE NOW!!!
• The "To Do" list from the white belt days becomes the "I need to do that again" list as they realize everything they have forgotten over the past few years of study. 
• The unworthy feeling is back because brown belts look at the black belts and think "I have so much more to learn and it can’t possibly be done in X amount of time." 

Black Belt Syndrome (Of course I’ve only heard this exists and wouldn’t know from personal experience, although I hope to report back on this some day. . .)

• Although incredibly proud to be a black belt, one feels unworthy even more so and realizes that only now are they really ready to learn karate.

When I look back to the beginning of my martial arts journey, it’s like looking back at old yearbooks and laughing at your former hairstyle and clothing choices.  The way I kicked, punched, and performed kata’s makes me want to cringe.  I never saw it when I was a white belt.  I knew I wasn’t doing things exactly like my instructor, but I was surely doing them well enough.  Shudder. 

When you get to be a brown belt and have been in the dojo for several years, you watch people come and go.  You see those who are going to excel; and you get pretty good at picking those who will lose interest or drop out for other reasons.  Your training mates drop like flies around you and don’t come back. 

But above all else, you begin to look inside yourself.  I have always been very athletic and have participated in or have played just about every sport: street hockey, tennis, field hockey, softball, track, powder puff football, etc.  I wasn’t the top athlete, but I did well enough.  Playing sports has always come pretty naturally for me. 

Lately I’m feeling like the "Brown Belt Syndrome" is more than just a syndrome.  What if I’m not good enough to get my black belt?  Do the teachers sometimes shake their heads at me the way I do with Big I when she ends up in a heap on the floor after a snap kick?  Am I someone that the lower ranked belts can look up to?  Do I have good technique, or am I just going through the motions the way I was as a white belt? 

I was in awe of a group of green and brown belts who moved up together through the ranks when I was just starting.  Do the new white belts have that feeling about me; or do they think I’m just a Mom who started too late and tries too hard?  Would anyone tell me if they didn’t think I was good enough?

I’ve been writing on this blog for over a year now and have chronicled my journey in the martial arts from green belt until now.  It seems that every few months I go through one of these cycles of martial arts depression complete with self-doubt and disgust.  If history repeats itself, then hopefully I’ll climb out of this hole soon. 

April 1, 2007

Cracking

This is the time of year when people are typically cracking eggs; but I don’t like to be like everyone else.  I’m a leader, not a follower, which is why I think I may have cracked a rib.  Here’s a little quiz for you. . .

How did BBM potentially crack her rib?

A.  Sparring with Mr. BBM

B.  Working on bunkai (application) at the dojo

C.  from a wrestling move from Lil C

D.  by bending over and picking up a toy while sneezing

I know.  It’s tempting to choose A right?  Think of the posts that would follow, the back and foot rubs and cooked dinners that would result if Mr. BBM had indeed cracked or bruised my ribs.  Oh, how I wish that were so.  A gal can always use some pampering.

And then there’s working out at the dojo, which is also a tempting notion.  Karate can be rough and it was only a matter of time before an injury would result, right?  If that were the case, it would be a warrior injury.  Unfortunately, a warrior I am not.

Then there’s C, as in Lil C.  Lil C has found me to be very much like an animated playground these days.  I have no doubt that she could crack or badly bruise a rib.  It wouldn’t be hard for her to do so.  She has often "attacked" me while I’m lying on my back and has no problem walking all over Mommy literally.  But a Mommy injury it is not.

On Thursday morning, I was cleaning up Lil C’s room when I bent over at the waist to pick up a toy.  In the process, I sneezed a ridiculous sneeze.  When I stood up, I felt like someone had thrown a knife into my side.  It hurt to take a deep breath, and I stood there, completely still for several minutes because the pain was so severe. 

At first I thought it was heartburn, but after drinking a glass of baking soda and water and knowing that I am not pregnant, I quickly ruled this one out. 

I then moved on to thinking I was having a heart attack.  It’s entirely possible for a young woman to have a heart attack and the symptoms that I googled confirmed this belief.  Mr. BBM was working from home that day and after his baking soda cocktail failed to provide relief, he was thinking my heart was failing me too.  "Lift your arm up, do this, do that.  Does your jaw hurt?  Does your arm hurt?" he asked.  He bombarded me with questions since he’s an avid googler himself.  When I didn’t get worse, we ruled the heart attack out. 

I moved on to cancer.  That’s where everyone goes at some point when being plagued by odd symptoms, so I did as well.  I ruled out cancer and was puzzled.  What the heck was wrong with me?

When night rolled around, I was still hurting and I talked to my Mom who happens to be a nurse.

"I bet you cracked a rib," she said.  She went on to say that tall, thin people are more prone to these types of injuries and that it’s not unheard of for someone to crack a rib from a sneeze or cough.  My Mom, as much as I hate to admit this, is almost always right.  I googled "cracked or broken rib" and there it was: more pain on the exhale than inhale, intolerable to be on back or side, pain increases drastically when laughing. . . uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, yeah. 

So apparently there is nothing you can do for a cracked or broken rib.  You just have to wait and let time heal the wound.  I haven’t gone to the doctor and don’t think I will go, since I haven’t chosen a new doctor since this happened.  If it gets worse, I’ll go.  For now, I’m trying not to twist or laugh while sitting.  Both are painful.  And at night, I have to sleep on my right side or else I wake up in pain.  Holding Lil C, especially on the left side has been uncomfortable.  Fun.

I’m hoping I can continue to go to karate, avoiding sparring obviously.  We’ll see how this week goes.  I am hoping I only bruised a rib, not cracked it.  I’ve read you can dislocate ribs too, and the popping/cracking sound I heard when bending and twisting at the grocery store says that maybe that’s the problem.

The biggest problem I’m having right now though, is slowing down and resting.  After a weekend full of birthday parties, t-ball, a Team Mom meeting, and entertaining guests and two very cranky, tired children. . . I am exhausted.  And we haven’t even started dying eggs in the BBM household yet.  Here’s to a crack free rest of the week with some actual rest. 

March 29, 2007

Tagged-Weird things

I have been tagged by Sesame for the six weird things meme.  I did this last year around this time, but because I am relatively certain there are more than six weird things about me, I’ll play. 

1.  I have an uncanny ability for screwing up song lyrics to almost any song.  It provides my husband with great amusement.  For example, if you’re familiar with the song "Take my Breath Away" circa the Top Gun era, you probably know that towards the end of that song, the singer says, "Looking through the glass I saw you. . . ".  Well, for years I belted along with her, but my version was, "Julio Iglesius saw you. . . "  According to Mr. BBM, I’ve also screwed up many other songs.  But most of the time, I prefer the lyrics my way. 

2.  Poor eating habits of other people can make me physically sick.  Some of my major pet peeves are people who chew with their mouth open, double-dippers, finger lickers, and oh man, I think I need to go be sick.  I can’t even think about nasty table manners without feeling nauseous.  Gross.

3.  If I seem kind of in a zone, it’s probably because I’m doing mental karate, mostly kata.  I imagine myself doing kata’s while driving, while drifting off to sleep, during commercial breaks, when I’m cooking and even when I’m in the shower.

4.  I form strange attachments to inanimate objects.  For example, I will not allow my Mom to get rid of many of my toys/stuffed animals, etc. from childhood.  I feel bad for the toys/stuffed animals.  I blame my parents for raising me with empathy.  Apparently it went too far.  I also have a problem getting rid of clothing that is either out of date or no longer my size, especially when said item of clothing has sentimental value attached to it.  For example, if I wore that blue shirt on our 26th date or something equally ludicrous.  I thought adulthood would bring more rational thought on this issue, but now I just blame the Toy Story movies for putting on the big screen what I’ve imagined all along:  toys do have feelings.

5.  I have taken karate for several years now.  I insisted on having a high tech security system installed in our home.  I am always on alert when I am outside of the house and am a stickler for safety. Having said that. . . I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I have left my keys hanging in the front door of my house for anyone to just waltz right on in.  Once I even did so overnight, when my husband was traveling. It took me a good 45 minutes to find those keys, because there was "no way I could have left them in the door-not me!  NEVER!" and there they were.

6.  I have every piece of baby clothes, baby towels, baby toys, baby equipment that we have ever received as a gift or bought ourselves.  I can not even fathom the idea of getting rid of any of it.  Most Mom’s willingly hand out outgrown clothing to other Mom’s with little ones, but I CAN NOT bring myself to do this.  Every piece of clothing is attached to some type of baby memory, and I don’t want to lose that physical reminder.  It’s just such an amazing time that I can’t part with any of it.  (I guess this one goes with #4 but my crawl space full of baby things says this one deserved a number all its own.) 

So, who to tag?  Who to tag?  I’m going to go with: Papa Bradstein, Forging Ironman, One Crazy Chick, thatblackbeltchic, and Junebee.  If you’re not tagged and would like to play along, go for it and let me know you did.  I tried to pick bloggers I haven’t tagged before, so play if you’d like to or feel free to just ignore me; everyone else does.

Did I guilt you into playing?  Good.

March 28, 2007

“I’m too big”

Dear Big I,

Today, at 1:29 a.m., you will turn six years old.  This is not news to you because you’ve been counting down the days since about December.  Tonight at the grocery store, instead of climbing into the truck shopping cart with your sister, you stood back and watched her climb in before saying, "I’m too big to get in there."  Daddy said he felt his heart break a little bit, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that mine did as well.  This is nothing new for either of us because each year of watching you turn a new number has brought excitement mixed with a bit of sadness.  You’re growing up so fast.

This has been such a year of changes for us.  You went from being a stay-at-home kid to being a Kindergarten girl.  It wasn’t a transition that was easy for either of us; but you weathered it like a pro and have made Daddy and I so proud.  You’ve learned many things over the past year: how to tie your shoes by yourself, how to sound out words, and count to 100.  You’ve also learned that sometimes kids can be mean.  But along with that, you’ve learned to let things roll off your shoulders and to stick up for yourself when necessary.  That was a lesson I was hoping you would wait a few more years to have to learn. 

I’ve watched you grow from a little girl into a big girl this year and saw your independence like never before.  I’ve also seen the struggle you’ve gone through between wanting to remain a baby versus growing up.  I don’t blame you on the days you’d rather stay little.

Today was a beautiful day and we spent much of the day outside playing together, you, me and Lil C.  It was an ordinary day except that I kept thinking about the fact that on this day six years ago, I was in labor anxiously awaiting your arrival.  Six years later, you stand tall enough to be on a collision course with my elbows on a daily basis, but I am still your number one playmate.  I don’t know how many more years that will be the case.  So, today will be one of the many days that I lock away in my memory for safe keeping.   

When I think about the fact that Kindergarten is quickly coming to an end, and that you’ll be leaving me to go to school all day next year, I could just sob.  There are some days that I just can’t wait until you get home from school.  But I’m going to try not to get ahead of myself and instead think about the whole summer we have to spend together.

You are a beautiful young lady, inside and out.  I can’t wait to see what "6" brings.  Happy Birthday Big I!

I love you,

Mommy

If you’d like to read Big I’s birth story, you can do so here. 

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