MAMA: Adventures in Martial Arts and Motherhood

" I'm just waiting for people to start asking me to make the rain disappear." David Copperfield. It's that time of year again. Time for park sprinklers and sandy toes. Time for tank tops, sundresses and sandals. Time for spray bottle wars and afternoon icy breaks. It's getting warm outside and that means summer fun for Maya, ice coffee for me and sweaty time at the dojo. Like most traditional schools, we do not have air conditioning. There are many reasons for this. First of all, while all that cool air feels great when you are sparring, it feels awful once you stop. Sitting in a sweaty gi in an air conditioned room is just a summer cold waiting to happen. Also, all your muscles start to stiffen up. So it sucks. Secondly, karate is supposed to be fun but it is not necessarily supposed to be comfortable. Training when it is 95 degrees outside is a hell of a challenge. Embrace it. Finally, running AC all day in a storefront on the Upper Westside of Manhat...

This was the conversation between Maya and I this morning Maya: Mommy can I wear these shoes, they are sparkly. Me: Sure if they are comfortable and don't fall off. Maya: They don't. Me: I was going to wear these white shoes but I think they are too small. Maya: But they are pretty! You should wear them! Me: Hmmm, I guess I could. Not very stimulating I admit. My husband, who wears mostly jeans and t-shirts from Woot.com, could get dressed with his eyes closed. During this entire conversation he was sitting on the couch, playing a game on his tablet, and patiently waiting for us to stop babbling about shoes and leave for school.  He doesn't care what I wear. He doesn't care what Maya wears. He wishes he were in a house full of boys. The Headband...oh so girly! Wednesday I went to jiu jitsu wearing a sparkly pink headband. It was no gi class so I also wore a rashguard, a t-shirt and gi pants. (I wear a lot of clothes to no gi. It is not modesty, I just lik...

Over the weekend Maya competed in her first karate tournament. If you have been reading my blog, you know how I usually feel about competition. (Much like Four Loco or double chocolate mousse cake, it is perfectly fine in very small doses.) This tournament was a fundraiser at our own dojo. We made a point of telling all the kids that it did not matter whether they came in first or last, it was all about being brave enough to get out there in front of everyone and do their best. (There were seven different divisions so I made this speech at least that many times throughout the day.) This was especially true for Maya. When we first told her we were going to be having a tournament she said that she did not want to participate. Maya says this about everything new and unfamiliar, and I do mean everything. Maya do you want to go to the circus? No thank you mommy. (We went, she LOVED it!) Maya do you want to go to Griffin's birthday party? No thank you mommy. (We went, she LOVED it...

I remember very little of my first few months of parenthood. Birthing a baby leaves you in such a disoriented haze of utter exhaustion that anything you do is on pure instinct. There is no thought process, mainly because your sleep deprived brain is barely able to handle the sticky tabs on your newborn's diaper, let alone form coherent thoughts. I remember sometime around day three, attempting to watch one of the Shrek movies but being unable to follow the plot. (No we are not talking about Inception. I could not keep up with Donkey and Shrek. Yes it was that bad.) I remember the night one of our close friends came by to visit and after managing a full half an hour of socializing I realized that I could no longer keep my eyes open. Rather than asking him to leave (I appreciated the visit but people without their own babies always stay too long) I just went to sleep on the nearby sofa, letting the conversation between him and Matthew be my lullaby. I also remembe...

This morning on my way to get breakfast I walked by a storefront for rent. It was two blocks from the dojo, a slightly smaller rectangular room with a tiled floor. It looked newly renovated and blissfully empty. I love vacant commercial space, particularly rooms with hardwood floors and high ceilings. Some people look at an unfinished room and just see hours and hours of work. I see that too, but I also see kids hitting pads and matted floors with sweaty people choking each other and a rock wall and a ball pit and a colorful classroom with learning centers that are all physical. (Can you learn math by dancing? Absolutely! Please don't get me started.) Our dojo is doing well. By that I mean that we have enough students in all our classes, we can pay all our bills relatively on time, and everyone (students, parents and staff) seems satisfied. We have enough room for growth but not so much room that we are desperate for it. We have enough money to live our lives but not enough for a...

Yesterday after school Matthew took Maya to the playground, where she got into an altercation. She was playing with her best buddy from school when an older friend of theirs started bugging  them. Maya's friend, who is not shy about speaking up for herself, kept telling him to go away and then would follow the kid around for awhile telling him what he did wrong. (At this point her mother, who I adore, says to Matthew "Someone is going to pop my kid one someday and she is going to deserve it." I know the sentiment well.) The girls continue playing until a group of four bigger kids approach and two of them run too close to Maya and frighten her. Her friend, in a fit of fierce loyalty, decides to go give them a piece of her mind. So she storms over to them and starts yelling at this boy wearing a track suit (which is always a sign of trouble, just watch any 80's movie), who is looking angrier and angrier, scowling and balling his hands up into fists. Maya and her friend ...

On Tuesday mornings I teach a group of 2 and 3 year olds. The class, which we call Jump, Kick, MOVE!, is meant to be an intro to structured sports instruction. We do a little bit of karate, a little bit of tumbling, some yoga moves and a lot of dancing around. The kids are young, yet even the smallest of the 2 year olds is able to accurately copy a series of movements, follow an obstacle course, and control a specific part of his body so it does basically what he wants it to. We use all kinds of props; hoops, ribbons, scarves, a mini-trampoline, tunnels, beanbags, basically anything that can be manipulated by small fingers and feet. Despite all this entertainment (we even have a few toys around for the kids to use when they first arrive) there is inevitability at least one kid who comes into the room, picks up a round object and starts running around in a giant circle, wailing like a fire truck. (Or a train, or a police car) And why? Because they can. Large rectangular room,...