August 7, 2008
Occupation Choice at Two???
After getting a thorough tour of the college campus where I’ll be teaching yesterday, I had to fly across town to meet Mr. BBM and the girls in order to pick out our bathroom lights for the new house. After an hour of sitting there, we made only one decision and it was regarding the ceiling fan in the family room, no bathrooms.
Despite the fact that the very nice woman put "The Polar Express" on for the girls, they were still wound up. I can’t blame them. Looking at lighting choices when you’re 2 and 7 can’t be much fun.
We left there, drove by our lot to see if there was any progress and saw that our lumber has been delivered! We were ecstatic. We stopped home for a quick snack (no time for dinner) and then headed out to pick our countertops for the new kitchen.
We were only there for about two minutes when Lil C started acting up. The girl doesn’t know how to walk. She runs everywhere, so she was running around just looking for a way to get into trouble. I picked her up. She then entangled herself in my necklace to the point that I thought she was going to break it. I handed her over to Mr. BBM.
We chose our countertops easily, but had many questions about installation and care of them. The girls were totally wound up so Mr. BBM took them outside and put them in the car with a movie running. (We were on private property in the woods, with a perfect view of the car, so no need to go call Child Services on us).
When we left there, the girls were hungry, tired and loud. We arrived at a restaurant and I was the unlucky one, meaning I was assigned to the booth side with Lil C. Getting that child to sit and not try to interact with the people in the booth behind us is next to impossible. She’s not poorly behaved in a restaurant; she just likes to make new friends.
A short time later, I was talking to Mr. BBM when both Big I and Mr. BBM cracked up laughing to the point that they could barely breathe. I quickly snapped my head in Lil C’s direction and was shocked to see that this child, on only two seconds time, had removed the halter part of her shirt from around her neck and was pulling it down to show the entire restaurant her belly.
I quickly pulled the halter back over her head and told her that she shouldn’t take her clothes off in a restaurant, but because the other side of the table was still snorting with laughter, she tried it a few more times. Sometimes it’s impossible to hold the laughter in, and while I thoroughly understand this, I would prefer my daughter to be raised to not strip in restaurants.
When Lil C finally decided to leave her clothes on, Mr. BBM pointed at Big I and said "our future artist." He then pointed at Lil C and said, "future stripper." I argued that she won’t have the genes for such an occupation, but still, it scared me nonetheless.
After dinner, we went to visit our marooned cats and were feeding them in my sister’s basement. I turned around to see Lil C swinging herself around one of the basement support beams in circle after circle after circle. Mr. BBM just pointed with a knowing look on his face.
If poles are in her future, I think I’d rather she become a firefighter or perhaps an arctic researcher.
August 5, 2008
Change is Good
I sold my house. I moved in with my parents on the other side of town. I’m anxiously anticipating my new home being finished so I can move in and return my parents back to the serene life they lived before my kids moved in. With all this change, it’s best to keep everything else normal, unchanging, the status quo.
No thanks.
Last week I accepted an adjunct instructor position at a local college. I’ll be teaching two courses of freshman "Composition and Research" two days a week. I am excited and terrified at the same time. I chose textbooks for my classes without having a chance to really read them thoroughly first. Thank goodness that I seem to have chosen well. I have less than three weeks to finish planning my course, create my lessons and print up my syllabus. To say that I am nervous would be the understatement of the year.
I remember my first day of teaching 9th grade many years ago. I arrived over two hours before my first students would arrive and paced in the classroom. I worried about everything. After my first day, I settled down and relaxed. It was a challenging year, but a good one. I worked hard and I had a ton of time to plan. I had no children then.
Things are a bit different now. Today, I wore the girls out on their bikes so that they would zone out and watch a movie so I could plan a bit. Tonight, I dropped Big I off at her art class and spent an hour sitting in my car planning my course. If you consider the fact that my books just arrived this week, and I am already well into planning October and November, you would have to agree that I’m plugging along just fine.
I know I’ll be fine once I’m back in the classroom and the class starts to get rolling. It’s always the anticipation and the unknowns that make things so scary. Tomorrow, a friend who teaches at the college is going to give me a tour of the campus. It should be fun and informative. I am hoping that it eases the nerves a bit, so I can get my class completely planned out by the end of the week. I want to be able to relax at the beach next week, checking all the stress at the hotel entrance so that I can finally enjoy the fact that we’ve sold our house, and are starting on a new path in our lives. I’ll be returning to the classroom in more ways than one this year.
August 4, 2008
Official Observer (But Not for Long)
This past weekend was the summer annual IKKF training camp. Last year, I got exactly one session in before landing on my head and being declared unable to go on by an urgent care physician. Whiplash was the diagnosis. This year, I managed to remain injury free, probably because I was relegated to the sidelines, acting instead as an observer/camp photographer at the request of the head of the organization and dojo. Because of the photographer role, I spent the weekend being the recipient of some serious scowling. Surprising, because what person doesn’t want to be photographed after sweating for six hours straight, two days in a row?
If there’s one thing this weekend taught me though, is that things happen for a reason.
I’ve attended three previous training camps. I would be lying if I told you I didn’t feel completely awkward and out of place at each and every one of them. The high ranking individuals all know each other well after training together for decades. Being there as a green or brown belt certainly gets you points for trying; but there is nothing like being in a room full of black belts to give you a major dose of "I seriously suck" reality.
I felt completely intimidated, unworthy and pathetic when I went to other training camps. Despite my role on the sidelines this time, I felt completely different. When you’re there on injured reserve, you get to quietly observe from the sidelines, but you also get to interact with high ranking individuals who have much to teach you even from the sidelines. I had some wonderful conversations with people I was previously too intimidated by to do more than smile, nod and run.
I learned that despite their high ranks, they’re normal people, fun people with much to offer someone trying to learn the art (and psych herself back up to get back at it again). I received much encouragement from people who have gone the ACL route before me. I learned a lot just by watching and being in the environment with so many interesting people.
Perhaps most importantly though, is that I now feel so much more comfortable around these people. Before they were the Renshi-Kai (and the other high ranking individuals from different styles like Kyoshi Hayes who come to our camps), the people who decided if you’d get your black belt or not. They were the ones who sit in the front when you test, with serious expressions and a clipboard, later deciding if all your hard work has paid off or not.
Now, I know that they are interesting and knowledgeable people who have much to offer. . . if only you’ll stick around for longer than a nervous smile before running away.
Before I tore my ACL, I was preparing for Shodan testing. I was feeling more and more confident about my kata and bunkai. I was gaining confidence overall. I wonder now if this injury happened when it did, only months before I was hoping to test, so that I’d have this time to get mentally ready and to interact with the people who previously would have made my knees shake. The biggest obstacle to getting that Shodan right now is me and the confidence (or lack thereof) that I have with regards to my knee.
On Saturday night at our annual banquet, I watched two individuals receive awards for fighting through the toughest of times. One is from our dojo, a new green belt who has barely missed a class despite going through abdominal surgery and subsequent chemotherapy. The other, a newly promoted 4th degree black belt who was amazing at his testing the previous night. You would never know it, but he has fought cancer and beat it four times. Both of these men have the attitude of champions, and it was emotionally overwhelming to watch them receive their awards. It was also inspiring.
I realized this weekend that it is important for me to get back to karate. This weekend ignited the fire I needed to get me back in the dojo. I really want this now. I’m going to work hard this month to build more strength in my leg in preparation for a fall return. This time, it’s not just a desire. I came home from camp yesterday and rode my bike for a while, even taking some gradual hills to help work on my leg strength. Today, my knee feels good despite the workout.
This is the beginning of my return. I am coming back.
July 31, 2008
Accidents Happen
Tonight, while I was outside with Big I and my Mom, Lil C apparently asked my Dad (her beloved Pop-Pop) to take her to the bathroom. As I entered the house, I heard this:
"BBM, there’s been an accident" my dad sad.
"What do you mean Dad?" I asked as I cautiously approached the bathroom.
"Well, Lil C peed in her diaper. . .
and on the floor. . .
and on my arm. . . "
When I arrived in the bathroom, I saw a bewildered and naked from the waist down Lil C and an even more bewildered Pop-Pop.
"I thought that girls peed down" my dad said with obvious confusion.
"Well Dad, that’s going to depend on the angle at which they’re sitting on the toilet seat."
My Dad thought he was all that and then some, telling me what was up when I was in geometry class; but apparently the angle of a miniature heiney on a toilet is not his forte.
Speaking of misjudging things, it’s apparently in the genes. Last night, I took the girls over to check on the progress of the house. This week they added two support beams and pushed the dirt in around the foundation in the back of the home. The two homes that are being built down the street have their first floors and most of their first floor walls already. I’m guessing that’s in the very near future for us.
While getting one of several shots of the progress, I misjudged the condition of the dirt and ended up sinking several inches into what felt like quick sand. Standing still only made me sink in more; walking quickly only served to make me more unstable. Did I mention I was holding Lil C on one hip? By the time I made it out, my feet had taken a major mud bath and if not for my next-door neighbors to be and their hose, I would have had a very messy car. The mess was worth it though.
July 30, 2008
Life on Decaf
Miserable doesn’t even begin to describe how my mood has been this week. Since we’ve moved in with my parents, I’ve had a headache from the time I wake up until the time I go to bed. Mr. BBM said it was stress. My Mom said it was allergies because of our new location living in the woods. I figured it was exhaustion and dehydration because check and check. I feel like I’m suffering from both of them.
Today I found out the real reason.
Earlier in the week, I asked my Mom if her coffee was regular or decaf. She told me it was regular. If I miss my cup of coffee, I get a horrendous headache. I had kicked the caffeine habit during both pregnancies and for as long as I nursed both of these girls. But when you have two little ones and you need some go power, you grovel back to the coffee and the caffeine. It’s what needs to be done.
This morning as I was preparing a small pot of coffee, I read the label on my Mom’s coffee:
"Dunkin’ Decaf."
"Dunkin’ Decaf!!!!" I cried out! I immediately went downstairs to the little refrigerator that houses all of our things we couldn’t fit in the big one to retrieve my very caffeinated coffee, and dumped a healthy heaping tablespoon into the coffee maker.
My mood is drastically improving. I may actually have the energy and feel well enough to find my socks today.
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