April 12, 2006

Six Weird Things

I was just enjoying some late night me time, surfing through my regular reads in the blog world, when I was tagged by The Pajama Mama. I’m feeling sort of honored and all, since I don’t really have any personal friends in the blogging world. Then again, the pj lady tagged everyone who visited so I guess I’m just a victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. 😉

So, after wracking my brain for 100 things the other night, now I need six weird things, as if there wasn’t enough weirdness in my list to begin with.

I have action plans for everything.
I have ridiculously long arms. Seriously, it is a rare find when I bring home a long sleeved shirt that truly has long enough sleeves. (My karate instructor tells me this is an asset for sparring; all I know is that it’s made dressing myself a lot more difficult.)
I love the beach, but only go in the ocean up to my knees. (Sharks, duh!)
I never tried any type of seafood until I was in college (unless you count fish filets drowned in ketchup.)
I like my eggs scrambled with salsa and cheese.
I have never had a cavity.

I am now required to choose six people to tag, and according to The Pajama Mama, "after YOU get tagged, you have to go back to the blog of the person who tagged you and let them know you have fullfilled your tagging obligation and put up your list of six things. That means you have to come back HERE and let me know you put up a post with your six items."

I don’t know if any of you will do this or not, but I’m one of those people who gets the silly forwarded emails and decides I have to send it along to exactly seven people or else bad things will happen, so it only makes sense that I would feel a strong obligation to complete this task as well. So, I am tagging:

Mrs. W or Butterbean’s Biscuits
J of Thinking About. . .
City Slicker Mom
Amalah, who I’m guessing will probably pass on doing this, but I would LOVE to see her weird things.
the weirdgirl
Jody of and baby makes 6!

If I didn’t tag you, but the mood moves you, feel free to let me know your six weird things too! That means you, lurkers and non-blogging friends!

Posted by Black Belt Mama on April 12, 2006 in 100 Things and Other Stuff | 10 Comments

April 11, 2006

Soaring to New Heights

Today we had well visits for both Big I and Lil C. It was fun, let me tell you. Of the two: a 5-year old or a 6-month old, who would you guess would be the problem child? If you guessed the 5-year old, you would be correct. Big I is an awesome kid; she just doesn’t particularly care for doctors. If mothers earned "belts" for accomplishments in motherhood the way students earn belts in karate, I would be a black belt easily after making it through today.

Unfortunately, my eldest daughter takes after me. I hate doctors, always have, and always will. This is why I had a midwife deliver Lil C, because I was not going through it with an MD again. From the moment Big I woke up today, she was MISERABLE, whining, complaining, and asserting that she simply would not go to the doctor’s appointment; she would instead hide and we would "never ever ever find her." In the end, she dragged her sad little feet out the front door and into the car. As we pulled in to the doctor’s office, she left out one final wail of defeat. Lil C sat there smiling at her.

I honestly don’t know which is worse: having to go twice (once for each kid), or going once and getting it over with. We left this house at 2 p.m. We returned home at 3:50. The doctor was running an hour behind. NIGHTMARE much? When we finally made it back to the check-up room, my husband and I had to split up. I went with Big I for height/weight, eyes, and ears. This was the first time that Big I had to do the hearing and vision tests. You would have thought she was having teeth pulled. I honestly felt like the child had eaten lead for breakfast and that it had settled in her feet as I dragged her from ear test to vision test and back to the exam room.

Lil C? Smiled at the nurse weighing her and reached up for her to hold her. My husband definitely had the easier job.

When the doctor finally came in, Lil C grinned ear to ear at him. Big I sulked and cowered in the chair beside her daddy. She went first and did fine, except for the fact that every question the doctor asked her, had the response of "doh," Homer Simpson style instead of a simple, "no." She finished up and Lil C was ready to roll.

When Big I was a baby (and even now), the doctor had to take our word for it that she could: roll, sit up, push up, stand up, etc. She never behaved particularly well at the doctor’s office. After she turned a year old, I needed to start training in order to be in shape enough to hold the child at the doctor’s office. I left in a sweat each time and with a massive headache. Lil C is nothing short of a show-off. When placed on her belly, and the doctor asked us if she was pushing up or attempting to crawl, she got onto her hands and knees as if on cue and started rocking back and forth while cracking up laughing.

The doctor finished up and the nurses came in to double team Big I since she needed two vaccines. We were of the "wait and see if she gets the pox" thinking. She didn’t get it, so she had to get that today in order to enter school in the fall. She also needed a DTaP vaccine. She squirmed and cried, yelled and moaned, and only stopped after we were back inside the safety of our home for a while. As we were exiting the doctor’s office, I’m pretty sure she scared the daylights out of at least three waiting room dwelling children with her proclamations of, "It HURT sooooo bad," and "My arms hurt." Throughout the evening, she still had an occasional crying jag, just thinking about the horrible horror nightmarish hell of it all. Lil C had to get one vaccine today. She pouted and started to fuss and then wrapped it up with a grin within about 10 seconds. Could these girls be more different?

So, after all the measurements today, here’s how the gals stack up:

Big I- 97th percentile for height; between 75th-90th for weight

Lil C- off the charts for height and has been for the last three visits; between 75th-90th for weight

It got me to thinking about how tall they will be when they’re fully grown. I went on those height predictors on the web at about.com and this is what it said about Big I.

Your Child’s Predicted Height Results:

A (female) child who is 3 feet and 9.25 inches at 5 years of age has a predicted future height of:

172.5 cm, or

5 feet 7.9 inches

This seemed rather short to me considering the skyscraper genes that this child has. So, I plugged in the numbers based on my height (5’9") and my husband’s height (6’3") and it told me this:

Your Child’s Genetic
Potential for height is:

5 feet 9.5 inches

I was still a little surprised. Reason being? My mother is 5’4". My dad is 5’10". I am 5’9". So, I plugged in my parent’s heights; and apparently I have exceeded my genetic potential and then some because I got this:

Your Child’s Genetic
Potential for height is:

5 feet 4.5 inches

So, based on this, I am going to add 4.5" to Big I’s genetic potential height and that would make her 6′ 1.5" when full grown. Look out Gabby Reese! You may have some competition coming. Then again, considering all the drama today, Big I may be better suited for a career in theater. We’ll find out soon because she just started an acting class. I’m hoping that maybe she’ll learn how to at least act the part of a warrior at karate class. And, let’s be perfectly honest, isn’t every parent secretly hoping their kid hits it big and eventually buys them a beach house as thanks for all those classes that were so crucial during the formative years?

To be honest though, I’m just glad today’s festivities are officially over. I’ll worry about the beach house later.

Posted by Black Belt Mama on April 11, 2006 in Growing Pains | Comments Off on Soaring to New Heights

April 9, 2006

100 Things

I’ve seen these on a lot of blogs I read. I thought it would be fun to try. It took me FOREVER. Enjoy!

I am not a morning person, at all.
I have auditioned for two reality tv shows.
One rejected my husband and I because we "looked too good." (A Makeover Story)
I have dated two valedictorians in my life.
I married the second one.
I was the first one of my friends to get married.
I was the first one of my friends to have a baby.
My favorite alcoholic drink is the margarita.
Bass is my favorite beer.
I drink entirely too much iced tea.
I’ve been to Disney World six times.
I honeymooned in St. Lucia.
I HATE the Sandals resort and will NEVER go back ever ever ever.
The only bone I ever broke was my finger.
I broke it when I got hit by a car while riding my bike.
I have always wanted to learn karate.
Until age 29 I was too afraid to try.
I have beat up three people in my life.
Two of them were guys.
All of them deserved it
All of them were pre-karate.
I was in a major car accident while in college.
I’m still terrified of tractor trailer’s because of it.
I love the Outer Banks, NC.
I have been there at least 15 times.
My favorite color is blue.
Almost every shirt I own is blue (sad, but true).
You know all those political signs on the sides of roads? I put them there last election.
I voted for Bush, and am proud of it. (Please address all hate mail related to this comment to yourself. You’ll feel better getting it out of your system; and I’ll feel better because I won’t have to waste time hitting delete.)
I love playing fantasy football.
I HATE losing.
I am EXTREMELY competitive.
I met my husband when I was 19.
I got married when I was 23.
I had my first baby when I was 26.
I cry when I pack up baby clothes that is too small.
I had two babies and never got an epidural.
I had looonnnnggg labors.
I only said two mean things to my husband during the course of those labors, one for each baby.
I did swear quite a bit.
My first concert was Vanilla Ice.
I once looked like Vanilla Ice when my aunt waxed my eyesbrows and seriously screwed up.
As an adult, I went to see Justin Timberlake.
My husband and I were the only ones old enough to drink beer (unless you count the dad chaperones).
I love Prince.
I’ve been at concerts from his last two tours and they were awesome.
And I did wear purple and black.
People tell me I look like Meryl Streep.
myheritage.com tells me I look like Jennifer Aniston, Emma Thompson, and Sarah Jessica Parker
I hate Star Wars.
My husband hates that I hate Star Wars.
I suffered through the last movie in the theatre while extremely pregnant.
I studied French for five years.
I only know the swear words.
I studied Spanish for one semester in college.
I only know what Shakira has taught me.
I have been published a hand full of times.
I love Mexican food.
I don’t like to cook.
But I make a great chicken marsala.
Until adulthood, I was always better friends with guys.
Now, I have a hand full of great girl friends whom I couldn’t live without.
I am very opinionated.
I am easily annoyed.
I am NOT a touchy-feely person.
Guys in high school were afraid of me.
With good reason (see # 21)
I considered myself a feminist until I took a women’s studies class.
Now I think that a lot of feminists screwed things up for women. (Regarding hate mail, see #28)
I gave birth with the help of a midwife.
I went home the same day I gave birth.
I’m obsessed with 24, Lost, and Grey’s Anatomy.
I played field hockey in high school.
I play tennis now.
I don’t feel like I’m in my 30’s.
Most people don’t think I’m in my 30’s. (At least that’s what they say.)
I am extremely overprotective when it concerns my daughters and my little sister.
I like rap music.
I LOVE to dance.
I don’t like to work out.
I do love playing sports.
I am addicted to dark chocolate.
I am not a fan of anything Clinton.
I am a brutally honest person.
Probably too honest sometimes.
I have a hard time saying "No" when asked to help/volunteer, etc.
I check on my baby’s breathing at least four times each night.
I hit my husband and tell him to roll over because of his snoring at least four times each night.
I can’t stand people who litter.
I have parking lot road rage.
I have about 4000 pictures of my kids displayed in my house.
I still don’t think that’s enough.
I’m tall for a girl.
But I can’t play basketball to save my life.
I will occasionally sing karaoke, usually after a margarita or four, but only when I’m out of state.
If I do, I usually sing Macy Gray, Pebbles or B-52’s.
But, I am most amused when my husband sings ACDC. He is seriously good!
I never intended to be a stay at home Mom.
I changed my mind when I felt my first daughter kick.
I feel that staying home is the best decision I have ever made.

Posted by Black Belt Mama on April 9, 2006 in 100 Things and Other Stuff | 3 Comments

April 7, 2006

Shred THIS

You know how they have those MasterCard "priceless" commercials? Here is mine:

Haircut for daughter so she can look groomed for her Easter pictures . . . $13.00

White sandals to go with Easter outfit. . . $49.00 (Shut-up, I know. Her feet have "champagne taste" and nothing fits her right except for expensive shoes.)

Picture session with both a 5-year old and a 6-month old smiling at the same time while looking at the same camera, which requires extensive acrobatics by both parents and a Mom-Mom. . . $122.00

Coming home to have a cold beer. . . priceless.

Before you call Child Services. . . she only grabbed the bottle. She did not imbibe.

If you have ever been to The Picture People, you know what I’m talking about. I have a love/hate relationship with them. I LOVE that I can see the pictures and get them in an hour. I love that they have a plain white background without all the cheesy fake looking window like props like some places.

But, there are some things that absolutely drive me insane. First of all, what is up with the hard slippery floors? Each studio I have been to has hard pergo or something like it floors. This does not make for a friendly environment for babies who are not very steady. Why can’t they put a couple squares of that foam padding down or something? I realize it’s easier to clean up at the end of the night with hard floors, but don’t they realize that their clients’ kids have fragile noggins? Would it kill them to have a couple foam squares in the joint?

My husband and I are forever traumatized by what happened to Big I when she was a baby. We were getting her Christmas pictures taken and she was about 9 months old. They brought out this adorable little upholstered chair and scooted a Christmas tree up beside it. What a great setting for a picture right? Yeah, except for the fact that Big I, while sitting in the chair, got so excited about the feather duster coming at her that she bounced and threw her body forward so quickly and so awkwardly that she fell smack onto her face on the hard floor. The image of it still makes me physically sick. I practically knocked over the camera to get to her. (My husband was kneeling right near her but couldn’t grab her in time to break her fall.) She didn’t even cry right away which was terrifying, and then. . . the crying. Oh MY GOD, the crying. It erupted along with a red face and I immediately told them we were done as I stomped into the mall with my traumatized child. I took her to the car and nursed her while she sobbed that terrible sob that everyone has done at least once in their life, but usually only after being dumped by some stupid junior high boyfriend. My husband and I took turns, once she had calmed down, pushing on her delicate little facial bones and making her say things to make sure she was o.k. When all was said and done, she was smiling and perfectly fine other than a small bruise on her cheek. But, it was terrifying. The picture of the event was snapped on the upward bounce before the downward descent to meet the hard floor. It’s a great picture, but whenever my husband and I see it, it brings on a bit of nausea. Those damn hard floors!

So tonight when they wanted to sit Lil C on the hard floor by herself. . . NO, so not happening. I think our photographer was a bit taken aback by the sheer gusto of the NO that met her suggestion simultaneously by both my husband and me. So, instead they sat her in a beanbag chair that she quickly became adept at catapulting herself out of and into our waiting arms because my husband and I. . . We’re not going through that ever again. Why can’t they have more baby friendly props and settings? It really REALLY irritates me.

Secondly, anyone who has ever been to the Picture People knows it is not cheap. My husband always rolls his eyes and becomes sort of twitchy on Picture People days because he knows that the budget for the month is about to be completely blown to hell. And, he’s usually right. Why? Because, you tell me what mother on the face of this earth can look at a picture of her child and say, "No, I don’t want that one. You take it and put it into the shredder and then the Dumpster and then the land fill." It’s always physically painful for me to choose which pictures I want because even a bad picture usually has something cute or funny about it. Why can’t they do something like my wedding photographer did? Once you spend x amount on pictures, the proofs that they print out are yours to keep? Would that be so hard? Would it be so awful? Wouldn’t it endear customers to them more and help them make more money? They’d spend less on shredders; that’s for sure!

Once I took my daughter to The Picture People at a different mall and I had this wonderful check out girl who printed all the pictures I wanted, and then (when no one was looking) slipped all the other ones I didn’t want into the folder with a brief glance at me as if to say, "Don’t question it. Just go with it. It’s all cool, lady." I loved that woman. I seriously wanted to hug her but I knew that would definitely give her away. I nodded a cool nod at her and then went out to the mall seating to admire my gift. It was so nice that I went back to that mall that is an hour away from my house again, but she wasn’t there. They probably found out about her and sent her through the shredder too, like all the adorable pictures that meet the same fate each day and night.

I wrote The Picture People’s corporate office and told them about my issues after Big I had her close encounter with their floor; but I never got a response back. I’m sure that my letter probably had an encounter with the shredder as well.

Posted by Black Belt Mama on April 7, 2006 in Things that get my gi all in a bunch | 8 Comments

April 5, 2006

Progress

Today was a good day. I was officially promoted to 5th kyu green belt. It felt good. This particular instructor believes in all the pomp and circumstance so the promotion ceremony made it feel even better. The thing that made it feel the best? We were doing kata tonight; and I did my kata perfectly. My instructor said, "I didn’t see anything wrong with that," and nodded his head approvingly. Affirmation; it’s about time. For the first time ever, tonight I was the high rank in class. It’s something I’m definitely not familiar with, but I could get used to it.

Now I need to work on what I need to know for 4th kyu green belt. . .

ten step blocking drill moving in Nai Hanchi with rear foot shift and punch (I know this.)
fore knuckle strike (I’ve got this down too.)
roundhouse kick (Lord help me.)
breakfalls-front, back, side & roll fall (this sounds exactly like what it is and let me be the first to admit, I will HURT and badly.)
chokes (I need to review, but I know the basics.)
Waza 6 (I started to learn tonight, and it’s not too terribly bad.)
Kata Ananku (No anan-clue.)
Weapon-Odo No Tunfa Ichi (I know how to use them; but learning all the intricacies of this kata will not be easy.)

I will hopefully be testing for 4th kyu in six months. I have a lot of work to do, but I am now half way to black belt. Tonight, my instructor took some time out to show me some extra details I need to start adding to my punches (hip rotation, and tension at the end of the punches). It is sort of like learning karate all over again. You learn the basic moves, and then when you get to a certain point, I guess you learn how to do it right.

Big I also had a good day at karate. I wasn’t sure it was possible after all the stress of our day which included: a haircut by someone with pink highlights which was quite traumatic for her, and shoe shopping for sandals (which is always traumatic for Mommy). I was sure that getting ready for karate and the class itself would be a nightmare. It was quite the opposite. Big I got ready without an argument and she did so well in class tonight. I was so proud of her! She seemed to really try and even got "tricked" into doing her waza by herself.

Our instructor said he was going to do waza one with her. He did a few times and then he would get into position, but not continue with the moves. Big I did. I know she knows it, and tonight she finally started to show it. We also had some progress on the communications front. Big I, who up until tonight has only done the sideways head tilt when addressed by anyone other than me, actually nodded "yes" and "no" to our instructor. I feel like we had a breakthrough. I absolutely LOVE days like this.

Maybe I’m starting to get my karate "mojo" back. Of course, I am fully aware that when I’m learning my new kata next week I’ll be promptly catapulted back to reality. But until then. . . I’m going to enjoy my new rank and my new found confidence.