Skip to main content

Spaceships or Flowers

Its Monday morning, around 8:30am, and for the first time in three weeks I am not in the car off to a day of karate camp. To be honest, it is a little disorienting to be back to my "normal" life, I am not quite sure what to do with myself. What did I do with my mornings before camp? Oh yeah, jiu-jitsu. And stuff with Maya. And that overflowing basket of laundry over there that has been sitting in the middle of our living room for three days while Matthew and I have been having this conversation:
Me: Can you fold some laundry?
Matthew: Sure!
Me: If you do the first half, I'll do the other half later.
Matthew: Ok, great!
(a day later)
Me: I forgot about the laundry.
Matthew: Oh yeah, me too.
(a day later)
Me: I meant to fold that laundry last night but then I fell asleep.

And so on.

What else did I used to do in the mornings? Well blogging, of course!

Please forgive me for this post, I am out of practice. 

Yesterday we went to Target. Wait, wait before your eyes glaze over and you skip this part, this is not one of those typical mommy blogger moments; you know, my kid threw a tantrum in the toy aisle at Target while everyone glared at me. I swear it will be interesting. I went to Target to buy a cheap bag and new sheets. (There, aren't you just on the edge of your seat?? What KIND of sheets?? What color???) I bought some for Maya too. Actually I picked out two different ones, showed them both to her , and had her pick. One set had little pink and purple flowers on them. The other, a collection of spaceships and planets. 

She chose the space sheets. And yes, I had a moment of fierce mommy pride, right there in the middle of Target. My little girl, the one who was currently holding a box of Brave action figures and wearing a dress with little ruffles on it, still chose sheets with spaceships over flowers. Huzzah! Parenting success!

In other news, Maya got her first legitimate tapout last week in camp. I am sure my husband has already told you this story, but just in case you missed it:

First, picture a really, really nice boy, one who helps his three year old sister tie her shoes, one who hugs you and thanks you at the end of every day, one who shares his snack with everyone at his table. A truly awesome kid, the kind everyone wants in her group. Then imagine that whenever this kid gets into any kind of competitive environment (be it a sparring round or a game of UNO), the nice side of him disappears and he turns into an evil creature we'll call COMPETITOR! COMPETITOR runs around screaming with his hands raised over his head when he scores one point in dodgeball. COMPETITOR pouts in the corner when he loses at Sorry. COMPETITOR says things like "In your face, sucker! and I am the Champion of the world!" when he wins, and instantly quits any activity that he does not immediately excel at.  

Some kids should not, ever, EVER, compete in anything, EVER. 

Last week, Maya was grappling with COMPETITOR. She got on his back, stuck her hooks in, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He started thrashing about like a caught fish who has been thrown onto a boat. (Just reread that sentence and it blows. My apologies. Summer camp, Three weeks, no writing. I suck at this now.) "Ugh, " he said. "Ouch." Maya, without moving her arms a bit, calmly stated, "You should tap then." At which point COMPETITOR slammed his hand very loudly down on the mat, twice. Tap. Tap. And Maya let go. And then he asked her to play Sorry.

He was a nice kid, really.

As for me, I am going back to jiu-jitsu today. After almost a month off of everything except a handful of drills classes, I do not expect it to go well. In fact, my expectations are so low, that if I make it through class without dying I will consider the day a success. 


That's my little girl; spaceships, a ladybug and the NY Jets!
They are cute sheets, aren't they??

Please forgive me for this post, I am out of practice. 



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Ronda Rousey

I am not into celebrities. If you want to know what Snooki named her baby, or who in Tinseltown got married and divorced this weekend, don't ask me. I do not consider the people prancing around on my television role models for my daughter, representatives for women-kind, or at all relevant to real life in any way. So twerk away Miley, I do not care. But I am a martial artist. I learn arm bars and rear naked chokes. I throw punches and knee kicks. I work on traditional katas and do pushups and try to pass the guard and sweet Jesus, I even occasionally throw low kicks which other people check with their shins. (  http://www.latimes.com/sports/la-sp-ufc-20131229,0,7356884.story#axzz2os6WWXVl ) I am not a professional fighter. But I am a woman who loves to fight. And as such, I was thrilled when Dana White finally allowed female fighters into the Octagon. Seeing you armbar Liz Carmouche was incredible. And I could watch you Judo toss people onto the mat all da...

November 20th

I am going to tell you a secret.  The name of your school does not matter. The patch you wear on your uniform does not matter. The belt you tie around your waist, the color of your gi, the medals on your wall, none of these things matter.  All that matters is the sweat on the floor. Period. I am not saying that you should not be proud of those things. You earned them and they deserve to be celebrated.  I am not saying that all dojos are the same. They aren't. But none of that matters. What matters is that you did one more pushup that night. When you thought you were done, you did one more.  What matters is that you kept fighting, even though he had you pushed up against the wall and for a moment there you were pretty sure he forgot who you were. He certainly forgot how small you were, yet you kept fighting, or at least you kept your hands up and waited for the bell to ring. You didn't quit. What matters is that you went to class. When you would really ra...

Blogging About Promotion is Inappropriate

As a kids karate teacher I am often trying to get my students to not focus on promotion. Don't get me wrong, a new color around your waist is an excellent motivator. But I hope the kids will ultimately come to class because they love karate , not just because they are punching the clock (so to speak) on their way to a new belt. When I first started studying jiu jitsu it was all about the thrill of something new. I just wanted to learn how to do all these awkward techniques with their odd Brazilian names . I didn't care that I was a white belt, on the contrary I loved it. It had been a long time since I was a beginner. About 8-10 months into my training a bunch of the people in my class got blue belts. I knew I wasn't ready for a promotion yet. But still, when the woman who was my partner almost every day got her new belt tied on right next to me I felt a little wierd. Ok fine, I was a bit envious. She was definitely better than me, but she was not that much bett...