Easter and Some

Easter Sunday was windy and chilly.  It seems to me like the last five or six Easters in a row have been breezy and cold.  At any rate, it was still a fun day, despite the weather.  And at least this year there were no earthquakes, and I didn't have to wear a pirate patch on my eye (like last year's Easter debacle), so that alone rates this Easter better than last's.  Although I wound up losing the egg-rolling competition, so maybe they're about tied.

We started the morning going to church, where we watched a drama/musical called "Bow the Knee."  It was a beautiful, moving performance.  When we first arrived to church, a couple of Clint's karate students snuck behind him and wrapped their arms around his neck in one of their karate-holds (I don't really know the names of the moves).  Then one of the kids pretended to pull out an invisible knife and asked Clint, "Okay, what's your next move gonna be?" and the two continued to play around in such a manner.  I was chuckling at their rowdy behavior as we took our seats.  We wound up sitting behind more of Clint's rambunctious dojo friends.  One acquaintance, a man about our age (married with kids), turned around and was chit-chatting with Clint, when he leaned his entire arm on Clint's leg, and allowed his hand to rest on Clint's knee.  At one point of the conversation, the man said (in a mischievous way that reminded me of Drew Carey), "Hey, this doesn't make you uncomfortable, does it?"  Clint said with a perfectly straight face, "No, not at all."  I chimed in with, "We've only been at church for four minutes and have already been accosted with invisible weaponry, and now some guy is feeling up my husband, so needless to say, it's been an interesting morning."  The man responded with, "Yeah, church people weird me out too."  Let the record show that, at this point, his hand was still on Clint's knee.  I was crying with laughter...on the inside, of course, cuz we're in church.  The outer-laughter would happen later once the service was over and I was safely in the car. 

After church, we did the normal Easter stuff.  Clint's entire family came over for a BBQ lunch and Easter-egg hunt.  We did our hunt indoors this time, because of the crummy weather.  We also did our annual roll-off, which Clint's sister won.  For the life of us, no one could remember who the reigning champion was from last year.  I'm such a scatterbrain because I just now read last year's Easter entry about ten minutes ago, and discovered it was me.     

On an un-Easter-related note, my dad was attacked on Friday.  He was driving home (in broad daylight), when the driver behind him began honking and pointing to his car.  My dad thought something must be wrong with his car, so he pulled over to the side of the road.  He had just started to open his door to talk to the driver of the other vehicle, when suddenly the man punched him in the left cheek without any warning.  Two other guys appeared, and they beat him to the ground.  They quickly hurried back to their vehicle and drove away.  The cops appeared a short time later and took a report.  They originally thought that it might have been an attempted car-jacking, but that theory doesn't carry a lot of weight, given that the men did not try to get into my dad's car.  Most likely it was some kind of random, senseless, gang initiation, and my dad was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.  He is fine; all of his injuries are superficial (black eye, puffy cheek, scraped up arms), but his pride is deeply wounded, and he is emotionally shaken by the whole thing.  I, on the other hand, am absolutely pissed and pretty much want to run those guys over with my car.

The only other thing of consequence that happened this weekend was an issue with baby spiders.  We never have spiders in my house.  We get armies of ants every summer, but for some reason, never spiders.  That's why I was surprised when last night, I went to close the drapes in our master bedroom, and as I pulled them closed, dozens of little tiny spiders came pouring over the curtains.  It truly was an arachnophobic sight, if you're afraid of spiders.  Luckily spiders don't make my heart race in any way, so I just stared at the curtain for a minute or two, trying to decide my next move.  Then I walked out into the living room and told Clint, "There's a bunch of baby spiders crawling down our curtains."  He said, "Did you kill them?" I said, "No, I don't do that."  He said, "Okay...what do you want me to do about it?"  I said, "I'm not sure...maybe find the source?"  So he went in the room and said, "Damn, there is a bunch of spiders!"  He killed as many as he could, but now I'm thinking there's a nest of them somewhere in my room?  Do spiders have nests?  Or maybe they came in through the window sill.  I thought it would be hard to sleep last night, knowing that a bunch of refugee baby arachnids were possibly still scampering around my room, but I ended up sleeping like a baby last night, so I guess my sub-conscience wasn't too worried about it.  But still...blechhhh, right?

Small group is coming over tonight, so I better go get some food ready!

Vacation Countdown

I just got back from the beginning kickboxing class, and I think I pulled a hamstring, but other than that, I feel great! The workout was exactly the same as it was for the regular kickboxing class, the only difference was when we got to the training portion, it was more basic punches/kicks, with no combos. I loved the class so much...it was right at my level.

We spent our day today getting ready for our vacation. It's pretty much been a whirlwind of laundry, cleaning, and packing. This is going to be my last post for the week...we have internet in our cabin, but I have sort of vowed to myself to take a break from technology while I'm spending time with my family. Although I still might sneak a peak at a blog or two from my cell phone once in awhile, or throw out the occassional tweet. ;-)

Have a great week everyone!

Droid

My and Clint's cellphone contracts expired recently, and since Verizon was offering a "two for one" deal on their Droid phones, Clint went ahead and ordered them. I don't really know much about the Droids, but I know we've got the whole media package on them. This means that, from now on, I will be able to access the Internet from my phone. I don't know if this is going to prove to be a blessing or a curse, but I am like a little kid right now waiting for Christmas--I'm so excited to play with my new phone. Fed Ex tried to deliver them today, but we weren't home, so now Clint's on his way to go fetch them right now. I have a feeling the rest of our evening has officially gone down the drain.

I went to kickboxing this morning, despite how sore my muscles were from the last class. If I push myself to work through the sore muscles, the pain goes away. I don't know if it's the endorphins or what, but it works every time. Then about an hour after working out, as soon as my muscles are cooled down, I'm back to feeling crippled again. It was a great workout though and I felt exhilarated for the rest of the morning.

Later after our workout, Clint and I went out to lunch, and then to Costco to buy beach towels, road snacks, and a few other things we need for our upcoming vacation. I am really excited for our trip! Last night Clint showed me pictures of the inside of our cabin, and it is very cute. It is actually larger on the inside then it looks from the front, because they're designed to be narrow, but long. It has an eat-in kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. The kids get to have their own room with bunk beds, which is a huge benefit.

The only thing is I might just have to confiscate Clint's new phone, or else he'll be playing with it while we're on vacation--I know that man too well.

Back to Kickboxing

I started back to kickboxing today! See how flaky I am, even in my decision to quit something? A couple of weeks ago, Sensei Brandon decided to open up some morning kickboxing classes, so I decided that this would be the perfect thing to get me up and going in the mornings during summer break. He also started a beginner's kickboxing class on Friday evenings, which I am really excited for, cuz Lord knows that I could use the extra support. The only problem is at the end of summer, I don't know if I will be able to continue with the classes. I obviously can't continue on with the morning classes once I'm back to work, and the evening ones were keeping me up at night. Brandon understands my dilemma, and this morning we were brainstorming different strategies I can try in order to relax myself to sleep after a workout. I have two months to figure something out, but I have a feeling that once I'm back to work, I'm going to wuss out of kickboxing again.

Despite everything, it was great being back in class! It has been about three months (maybe four?), and I was worried I would no longer be able to get through the workout. It really did prove to be tiring, but thank goodness for muscle memory, because really the whole thing felt pretty natural. The only hiccup I had occurred toward the end of the workout. I was throwing punches at Mama Julia (a brown belt in the class--this woman is my inspiration), when suddenly I felt so lightheaded and my vision began to swim. I tried to pass it off for a few more seconds, but I could feel my whole body wobble. Mama Julia asked "Are you okay? You look really pale." I left the mat, dropping my gloves on the floor, and went into the bathroom. Once I shut the door, I collapsed on the ground. A part of me was thinking how disgusting the floor had to be (we walk around the entire dojo barefoot), but I didn't care. I just pressed my cheek against it's surface and it felt so wonderful and cool. The whole thing was weird because this has never happened to me before. Shortly after, Brandon's wife Shelly gave me a tangerine to eat, and I felt a lot better. I didn't eat breakfast that morning, and Shelly said that my blood sugar level had probably plummeted during the workout. I thought those kinds of considerations were for diabetics, not for generally healthy individuals, but I guess from now on I'll be sure to eat breakfast before working out.

Aside from that, today was pretty normal. Clint slept until 3:00 today, so I took the kids out for lunch and shopping. This evening Trin was spending the night at her friend's house, so Clint and I got to enjoy some quality time with just the little guy (who was such a chatterbox all day). We wound up having a movie night with way too much popcorn and M&Ms.

Fluppy Dog

Summer has been great so far! Granted it has only been going on for two days now. This morning Clint and the kids had their karate promotions ceremony. Clint and Trinity advanced to blue belts, and Elijah is now a green belt. Clint and Trin are now officially enrolled in the advanced karate class, and it's just so cute watching them go through this process together.

When we got home from the karate promotions, Clint surprised me with a gift. When I was a kid, I always wanted a "Fluppy Dog," which was a raggy-looking stuffed dog with fur made of yarn. I remember going to Disneyland, and my Grandma gave both my sister and I some money to spend on souvenirs. We walked into this one shop, and they had a display full of Fluppy Dogs. I was so excited. But it turned out that they were quite pricey, and I couldn't afford to buy one. I put the dog on both my birthday and Christmas lists that year, but never did get one. Probably because it was "yet another stuffed animal" (Shan and I had TONS of stuffed animals when we were kids).

So as you probably guessed, Clint surprised me today with a Fluppy Dog. They don't make them anymore, but he found this one off of e-bay. Even though the dog is circa 1985, it is in pristine condition. He is sky blue and adorable. Wait a sec, I'll post a pic......Okay, I'm back. Isn't he just so cute? I can't believe Clint did this. It must have been two years ago that I had mentioned to him my childhood craving for a Fluppy Dog, and out of no where (and for no special reason) he produces one. He scored MAJOR brownie points today, and he knows it. I'm in trouble. ;-)

Kicking Grumpiness to the Curb

Okay, I have to admit, despite my "woe is me" post from a few days ago, I have had an amazing week! There wasn't anything really special about it, I just have felt so good (other than a little bit of residual guilt over the previously mentioned issues). I worked out for six days in a row, which is quite a feat for me since I generally come home from work feeling absolutely drained. Even when I was in kickboxing, I never did six consecutive days. But this week, I forced myself to exercise every single day. It's hard to explain, but I could feel these feelings of anxiety trying to creep up on me, and I just decided that this week it wasn't going to happen. Several times I felt the temptation to curl up and take a nap, but instead I jumped on the exercise bike and blasted my iPod. I'm not sure if this is some sort of unhealthy "avoidance" thing, but I don't care, because I feel great.

Yesterday Clint came home and I was in the office ferociously pedaling, and he was laughing because he said I looked so lonely on my little bike in the middle of the tiny room. But my legs are getting stronger again, and I'm up to 65 crunches and between 30-35 push-ups. When I was in kickboxing, I could do 100 crunches and 40 push-ups, so I still have some work to do, but I'm just so happy that I seem to have found a regime that I can stick with. Not to mention that I'm sleeping great. With the exception of last night, I have slept for at least seven blissful hours every night this week.

This morning Naomi, Neicy, and I did our quarterly Aces Breakfast. I had a rough start to my day, which I'll try to explain later on my other poor neglected blog, but after first period it immediately made a turn for the better, and I came home in a great mood. This evening Clint and I took the kids out to dinner, and then we came home and played "Sorry." We had our mp3's playing during our game, so between turns the kids and I kept jumping up and dancing all around the living room. Poor Clint was up for 24 hours yesterday and was running on about four hours of sleep today, and he's stuck putting up with all of us non-serious game players.

After the game, I took a shower, and then worked out. Yeah, I realized after the fact that I did those two activities completely backwards. Very inconvenient. During my shower, I made Clint drag our audio PA system in the bathroom so I could listen to my iPod while in the shower. Yes, I do realize that music has grown into an obsession this week....So during my shower, the music was blasting and I was singing at the top of my lungs and dancing like a mad woman. Which is funny, because I pretty much suck at dancing and I really suck at singing, but it's okay, cuz in my mind I was a total rockstar. ;-) At one point I was even the girl in the Herbal Essences commercial. I'm not proud of this.

Tomorrow Clint and I are going to a karate tournament in Huntington Beach. A few of our kickboxing friends are competing, but the main reason I personally am going is to see Matthew compete. He has been begging me to go to one of his tournaments for months now, and this time he even told Clint, "Tell Mrs. P if she loves me, she'll come see me compete." How do you say no to that? This kid still tugs at my heart like no other student I have ever had, and I'm still in awe that after three years I still can't seem to stop being his teacher.

My Loser-esque Decision

I've been avoiding writing a post for the last few days because I knew if I wrote in my blog, I would have to confess that I quit kickboxing. But it's inevitable that I am eventually going to want to blab in my blog again, so here it is: I quit kickboxing (that wasn't that big of an announcement though since I just said it above). My reasons for dropping out of the class aren't anything original or unique; they are pretty much the same reasons I have given in the past for wanting to quit. Clint and I tried our plan of partnering with each other in order to help improve my technique, but this past month Sensei Brandon has refused to allow us to work together. Clint's theory is that Brandon doesn't want to see me get hurt due to our vast difference in size; my theory is that Brandon recognizes how skilled Clint is with kickboxing and doesn't want me to drag him down. But either way, without being able to work with Clint in class, I simply can't seem to improve.

I feel terrible about quitting. I've been in kickboxing for eight months now, and I have really formed bonds with the other students. Again, if I could just go to class and do the work-out, I'd be thrilled and more than willing to stay enrolled until I was a grannie using a walker. But the fact that the second half of the class is devoted to techniques that highlight all of my weaknesses and makes me feel like the village idiot is what I can no longer swallow. I wish I were a more secure person who could just have fun with it without worrying about whether I look foolish or not, but I can't seem to do that.

What's worse is I didn't even tell Brandon in person that I was dropping out of the class. I knew that if I told him face-to-face, he would make it impossible for me and convince me to stay. So I had Clinton drop me from our contract on Tuesday. Since then, I've still been working out. When the kids go to their karate class, I head over to Teri's house and use her elliptical. I have to admit, even after all of those grueling kickboxing classes, the elliptical is a pretty good workout. It's not nearly as fun as my class was, but as long as I bring my i-pod, it's not too bad. Over spring break I hope to find an aerobics class of some sort at one of the local gyms, but until then, I'll just keep using the elliptical as my default. That's the one silver lining in this whole thing: the class wasn't a complete waste. Not only did kickboxing up my energy level, but I'm now at the point where I can never NOT work out. Being in the class for eight months pretty much ingrained within me a lifestyle that includes staying active in one way or another.

I have more to write about, but I'll go ahead and finish this entry so I can see Clint off to work. :)

So Now I'm a Hyena

Yesterday I took a quick nap and had a dream that Clint and I had entered into a karate/kickboxing-type tournament somewhere far away. Before the competition began, there was this ancient guru woman who was supposed to read all of the competitors' "animal spirits" (like in Clan of the Cavebears). She began with the first competitor; a big, strong opponent. She declared to the audience that his animal spirit was a tiger. This was good news for him, because tigers were fierce competitors. But she warned him that he would have to be careful, because tigers could be impulsive and make quick, foolhardy decisions. Next, she read Clinton, and announced he was a horse. This was also good news, because even though horses were somewhat slower, they were very disciplined, steady, and obedient.

Next was my turn. She read me, but then I had to go to the bathroom, so I dashed off before she could tell me what animal spirit I was (stupid wimpy bladder). As I ran off though, I heard the crowd groan, and I heard the woman lamenting about what a shame this spirit was. Once in the restroom, all the stalls were occupied, save for one, which had a big rustic copper toilet with a sign that said "out of order." I remember feeling panicky because I was running late for the tournament, plus I knew that the old woman was probably upset that I had run out in the middle of her reading.

I finally gave up on the restroom, but ultimately refused to go back to the competition because of my embarrassment over being late. Instead, I returned to a restaurant-like booth where two men were sitting, watching the tournament from a small television set. I asked them what animal spirit had been assigned to the third competitor. They told me that the third competitor had run off in shame, because that person had discovered that they were a hyena. According to the men, this was the most disgraceful of all the spirits. I wasn't too thrilled about it, because I kept picturing those mangy, slobbery hyenas in The Lion King.

Okay, so I obviously have some unresolved security issues with kickboxing, but seriously...what the hell? Animal spirits? Where did that come from? What am I, a Shaman? And rustic copper toilets?

For the record, I did look up hyena animal spirits, and they're not all that bad. Here is the description:

People with a Hyena totem have the ability to discern, to be clearer on what to do, whom to trust, what to believe, etc. They trust “what smells right” and what doesn’t. Communication is very important to Hyena people but they need to be careful with their words. (http://www.linsdomain.com/totems/pages/hyena.htm).

See? I don't know what that dream audience was groaning about. What a bunch of drama-queens.

By the way, when I woke up from my nap, I still had to go to the bathroom.

Goldfish Refugees

My last post was my 100th blog entry! If I had noticed earlier, I would have written something special and commemorative, but oh well.

This week was both good and draining. The highlight of this week was the "Celebration of Education" on Wednesday. Students at my school who have a 3.0 or above are invited to this annual event, and it is huge. It's held both inside and outside the cafeteria, with carnival type games, food, and prizes. This years theme was Hawaiian, so the whole cafeteria was decked out like a luau, and the games had names like "Pineapple Crush" and "Tiki Ring Toss." Students also played the Limbo and several other games that I'm forgetting.

My favorite game was the Cake Walk. A lot of us teachers donated cakes for the Cake Walk, and Clint's mom volunteered to make me a cake to contribute. I told her to "keep it simple," but she doesn't know how to keep things simple (bless her heart, lol). She made the most wonderful cake that had an entire beach scene; complete with palm trees, an ocean, and a surfer-dude relaxing on a hammock. Before the Cake Walk even began, students were arguing over that particular cake, claiming that they were going to be the one to win it. Much to my thrill, one of my own students won the very first round. There were about 35 cakes, so it was quite a compliment to Clint's mom to have hers chosen first.

My least favorite game was "Hootie and the Blowfish." This game is an annual tradition which the school absolutely refuses to do-away with. In this game, students stand on opposite ends of a clear plastic tube--a sort of 'giant straw.' A live goldfish is placed into the straw, and each student has to blow on his end as hard as possible. The object of the game is to blow the goldfish into the mouth of your opponent, thus being the victor. The problem is that the game has only three possible outcomes:

1. Both participants blow equally as hard so the goldfish remains stranded in the middle of the straw until a "tie" is declared,
2. the goldfish gets blown into the opponents mouth, and the opponent winds up swallowing the fish, or
3. the goldfish gets blown into the opponent's mouth, and the opponent's body protests against the slimy wiggly thing going down his throat, thus gagging it up, resulting in a goldfish flopping around in vomit on the cold floor.

Unfortunately, outcome number three is the most common. The game is extremely popular with the middle-schoolers; they find it hilarious and exceedingly entertaining. But I find the whole game revolting. I'm not a tree-hugger or anything, but it just makes me sick to my stomach when animals are being used for some kind of morbid entertainment--even if they are just goldfish.

Luckily, I didn't have to watch the Hootie and the Blowfish game this time around, because I worked the snack bar the whole night. It was chaotic and incredibly fun--the night flew by so fast. Once the evening came to an end, me and another teacher were exiting the cafeteria when I saw a kiddie pool, outside in the dark, full of all the surviving goldfish. ASB students were scooping them into a cup, getting ready to throw them out. Well, one thing led to another, and I now have 22 new goldfish (which, by the way, was a lot of fun to transport home). I put them in our pond, and I expected about half of them to die, but so far we've only had one fatality. It's been three days now and they seem to be doing great. This morning when I fed them, they were going crazy gobbling down the food.

We also had our Aces Breakfast yesterday. As usual, me and my two teaching buddies cooked breakfast for our "A" students, but unlike last quarter's mayhem, everything came out perfect. No burnt eggs, no electrical shorts. After school yesterday I spent two hours creating sub plans for Monday and Tuesday. They shouldn't take this long, but I'm a worry-wart when it comes to leaving my students in the hands of someone else, especially for two days in a row. But I might as well get used to it, because I'm going to have to create sub plans for every Monday and Tuesday during the month of February for my long-anticipated GATE certification training.

Today Clint received his blue belt in kickboxing! I am so proud of him. The test was a grueling two-and-a-half hours long...I can't even imagine. Clint literally (and I do mean literally) lost five pounds after testing...all in water-weight, of course. That five pounds will reappear again in the next few days. I was supposed to test too, but I couldn't get my contact in my left eye due to the infection, and you are not allowed to wear glasses during the test. I'm not going to lie though; I'm relieved that I dodged that bullet. Now I don't have to think about it again for another two months. The kids also moved up in belts for karate; Elijah to orange, and Trinity to green.

Today we worked more on the backsplash in our kitchen. All of the stone tiles have been applied, so tomorrow we will work on grouting. It's coming along beautifully so far--I can't wait to see the final product. We went to Lowes today and picked up some new cover plates for all of our plugs and switches, so now instead of being white, they will be "satin nickle," which blends much more nicely into the natural stone. We also picked out a new sink, but we're not going to purchase it until the backsplash is finished. Our current sink is off-white and full of gross stains, so I can't wait to say goodbye to that thing.

Girly Complaints

Yesterday was rough. I woke up with pink-eye again. I wish I could figure out why I have such wussy eyeballs. Just opening the curtains yesterday was enough to get me to shield my eyes and yelp like a wounded vampire. On top of that, Aunt Tidal Wave (Aunt Flow's evil twin) decided to pay me a visit, and along with her came cramps so excruciating that I was forced into a self-induced coma (in other words, I made myself take an un-needed nap just to escape).

In addition, the muscles in my side and stomach area were in agony yesterday from Thursday's kickboxing workout. The dojo was closed for a couple weeks during the holidays, and Thursday was my first day back. Sensei Brandon had us do these circular-crunch-thingies, along with these leg-swinging-thingies, and both really tore up my stomach and side muscles after they had been on break for so long. For some reason, I felt only mildly sore on Friday, but by Saturday I felt like I had just been in labor for 17 hours...and yes, I do have a basis for comparison.

Today I woke up feeling 100% better and am no longer shuffling around the house like an old lady. =)

Sanctioned Spousal Abuse

No one's updated their blogs in the last few days, probably because of the busy holiday bustle, but still...dang slackers.  Don't they realize that I'm on break now and in dire need of some good reading material?  =)

Today Sarah came over and we scrapped some pages together.  I'm not much into scrapbooking anymore, but once a year I create pages for my mother-in-law's "Family Theme Night" album, and I give them to her as one of her Christmas gifts.  The book is quite impressive, and huge, since I've scrapped every Family Theme Night since 2003.  This year I actually had to buy my mother-in-law a new book, because the other one finally became too full.  Sarah and I started at around noon today, and by 5:30 I had only four pages scrapped.  It takes a really long time to do each page--especially when it's a gift for someone else, because I try to make everything perfect.  I wish I could lighten up with the whole thing, but I'm just anal like that (I hate the word "anal," but I'm lacking a better word at the moment).

After scrapping, we took the kids to McDonalds for dinner.  Then Clint and I went to K-Mart to pick up a few things.  On our way home, we drove passed the house shown below.  The picture doesn't do it justice; in person, it is stunning.  The little silohuettes in front of the house are our kids, so enraptured by all of the lights that they begged us to let them out of the car so they could get a closer look.

Unrelated, but I mentioned in an earlier blog that I was going to be Clint's partner in kickboxing for the first time.  I just wanted to give a quick update about how that went, and I can sum it up in one sentence:  He kicked my a#@!  We were working on defense maneuvers and counter punches, and every time I was supposed to dodge, I didn't dodge fast enough and I would get clobbered.  Not by Clint's punches (I blocked those), but by his feet.  We were supposed to purposefully try to stomp on our partners' feet to motivate them to dodge.  My left foot was so smashed by the end of the class that I wasn't even sure if I could wear my shoe.  I don't bruise, which sucks for me, because I still feel bruises, but I just have nothing to show for the pain.  And let me tell you, I have the biggest, nastiest, and most invisiblest bruise on the top of my foot right now.  Damn I wish you could see it (and me too); you'd be like, "Wow, that's a nasty bruise," and I'd be all like, "Oh this?  This is nothing," while inwardly sucking in the attention and feeling proud of my battle wound.  But this scenario will never happen, because I have nothing to show for my agony other than a slight smudge.  (On a side note, I hate it when my students say "I was like..." and "she was like...," but for some reason the shallowness of those words seems to work in the above imaginary conversation).

Despite my smashed but perfecty healthy-looking foot, I had an amazing time in class with Clint as my partner.  He and I fought each other so energetically, and I've never had a partner so aptly keep me on my toes before (or smash them, for that matter).  The other students were so entertained by our sparring; after awhile I became conscience of the fact that several students in the class were watching us intead of practicing the moves themselves.  Some were even shouting out at us (stuff like "Get em' Jodi!" or "You gonna take that from your wife?!"), and the verbal baiting was just energizing us even more.  At one point I punched Clint, hard, expecting him to block as usual.  I was shocked when my jab landed square on his forehead...it had caught him off-guard.  I immediately dropped my gloves and cried out, "Oh my God, honey!  Are you okay?!"  That gave everyone in the class a good laugh.  I guess despite it all, I'm still just a girl.

Overall, working with Clint is such a far cry from the "polite" sparring that I normally do with the other white and orange belt females in the class that I don't think I'll ever be able to go back.  After class, I determined that this "sanctioned spousal abuse" (as Clint jokingly dubbed it) is very therepeutic and I'm already itching for some more.  I think this might be slightly psychotic, but I'm okay with that.

Quitting, then not Quitting

Feeling very light today! 

I stayed up until 3:00 a.m last night talking to Clint over the phone (he was at work), and as a result wound up calling in for a sub early this morning.  I always feel guilty calling in for a sub (especially when I'm not sick), but last night's conversation made it so worth it.  Clint had been very dark and moody all day yesterday over something really trivial, and I was very frustrated with him.  I had just come home from a long day of work, ready to enjoy the rest of my evening with my family, and instead I was accosted by his negative, broody attitude over something that had nothing to do with me.  But once we hashed it out over the phone, I completely understood where he was coming from.  In fact, I really wanted to just hug him when he explained why he was feeling so upset.  Next time, I need to try to be more patient with Clint when he is going off the deep-end over something seemingly small, because chances are his uncharacteristically jerky attitude is just his tough-guy attempt to cover up vulnerable feelings.  He puts up with all of my hormonal mood swings...he should be allowed to have his moments once in awhile, too.

Today we slept in until 10:00ish and then finished Christmas shopping for the kids.  Afterwards, we went to La Casita for lunch.  It was such a pleasant lunch--the kids were still in school, so we had the whole table to ourselves and just talked for over an hour uninterrupted.

Last night I officially decided to quit kickboxing.  But then today I changed my mind.  Yeah, I can't keep up either.  =)  I have been playing with the idea of quitting for quite some time now.  The reason is simple: because I suck at it and do not seem to be improving.  What actually finalized my decision ( or so I thought) was seeing Sensei Brandon fight last Friday.  It just brought to the surface once again how much of a professional he is in this arena.  I can't seem to get past the feeling that people like me are just a waste of his talents. 

So I told Clint last night that I was going to finish off the rest of this week, and then let Brandon know that I was dropping out of the class.  I was feeling pretty depressed about this decision though, because I have made some good friends at the dojo, plus I actually really love the work-out portion of the class.  In fact, I was going to look through VVC's catalogue to see if they were offering any kind of high impact aerobics class to replace the workout that I would be losing by quitting kickboxing.  But regardless, the whole thing had me feeling heavy-hearted.

Today, however, during lunch, Clint and I came up with a plan to help me stay in kickboxing.  He is at a much higher skill level than me, so he generally partners with guys who are around the same belt as he is (which makes complete sense, because you don't want to have a partner who slows you down).  But he really doesn't want me to quit kickboxing, so he said that from now on, every Tuesday and Thursday, he will be my partner.  On Mondays and Wednesdays, he'll continue working with someone at his own level.  This way he can help me master some of the techniques two days a week, but still get in the practice he needs the other two days. 

I guess it sounds strange, but even though Clint and I are in the same class, we usually have very little to do with each other. He does his thing with his buddies and I do mine. Tonight will be my first night partnering with Clint, so it should be interesting.  I don't know if this is going to be the miracle cure I need, but I'm really happy that we are at least trying one more option before I quit.  I'm hoping that working with Clint will help me to become more skilled, ultimately building up my confidence and compelling me to stay in the class.  I guess only time will tell, but it's worth a shot. 

Tearing it up in OK

Last night was utterly exhilerating!  You know how guys obsess about sports such as football, and they will sit there and holler at the television screen while us females just sit there, perplexed, wondering what the hell the big hoopla is all about, it's just a damn game?  Okay, that was a run-on question.  But anyway, I finally got a taste of that kind of enthusiasm. 

Last night Sensei Brandon was in an MMA fight in Oklahoma.  He has been training for months.  Usually our dojo holds classes on Friday nights, but since his fight was scheduled to stream live starting at 6:00 p.m., we decided to bring a projector to the dojo and project the fight on a giant screen so that his students could watch it in a movie-like atmosphere.  Clint treated everyone there to pizza and soda, and we also brought our popcorn machine so that we could munch on some popcorn while enjoying the fights.  Once the fights began, we turned out all the lights.  Brandon's fight was the fourth one.  After watching the first three, I was truly anxious for him.  The first three fights were pretty hard-core, with two guys getting hurt (one was knocked out, and the second one looked like he had broken his hand). 

But once they announced Brandon's name, all my nervousness fled and was replaced with excitement.  It was truly awesome to hear our own little city being announced.  The energy in the room was nearly palpable, with no one in the dojo even able to stay in their seat.  When Brandon appeared on screen, we all started screaming and going crazy.  Then, before we knew it, the fight began, and we watched our sensei kick ass.  His opponent was completely outmatched.  Brandon was patient but lethal; every single opening that his opponent presented was met with jabs.  This guy got the crap beat out of him.  Now, don't get me wrong, I don't advocate fighting and don't particularly care to watch it, but when it's your kickboxing instructor tearing it up on the big screen, it is an absolute high.  Clint even recieved a text from our brother-in-law, who was watching it from home, and the message contained only one word which quite aptly summed up the fight: "Duuuuuuuuuuuude." I've never screamed at a screen so much before.  When Brandon won, all of us started jumping up and down hysterically.  It was ridiculously fun. 

I definitely won't be forgetting this night anytime soon.

Belt Test

The internet is taunting me right now. It is agonizingly slow every time I try to click on a new page, and the pages keep coming up with errors. I have been so busy these past few days that I haven't had the chance to peruse some of my favorite blogs, and now that I have ten minutes of free time, the internet decides to be completely uncooperative. I'm not even sure if this post will publish.

So, as stated, I have been really busy since we started back to school yesterday. I have heaps of grading that I just can't seem to catch up on, and with report cards looming ahead in three weeks, parents are suddenly very interested in scheduling parent-teacher conferences for their children who have been slacking.

Kickboxing was great tonight. A little rough because we had that week off, but a great night, overall. I confessed to my friend Rachel my phobia of taking the belt test, and she spent probably about ten minutes talking to me about it and encouraging me. The belt test starts out with an hour-and-a-half workout, and once you're thoroughly exhausted and ready to collapse, you must spar with a purple or brown belt for a three minute round. The workout is brutal...you're not allowed to leave the floor whatsoever for the full workout period; not even to go to the restroom or get a drink of water. The only exception is if you have to throw up (which is pretty common), and in this instance, you must leave the door open so the sensei can make sure that you are indeed puking and not taking a break, and then return immediately to the mat. If you leave the floor for any other reason, your test is over.

Ironically, it's not the workout that scares me the most. I'm sure the workout is going to be a total ball-buster (Clint's lingo, not mine) and I'll probably want to pass out and die, but it's the sparring that really scares me. I've never officially sparred before, and I just know that all the techniques I learned are going to fly out the window and I'm going to look like a complete fool. Luckily, the test isn't until January, so I don't have to stress out about it yet. But I have to take it this time, because it's starting to be embarrassing that I'm not progressing in the class.

Time for bed! I'm aiming for eight hours tonight--crossing my fingers that insomnia doesn't kick in because I really need the sleep tonight.

Pre-Thanksgiving Torture

Kickboxing was insane tonight. Because the dojo is going to be closed until Monday for the Thanksgiving holiday, Sensei Brandon decided that he needed to squeeze a week's worth of workout into one class. It was torturous. I'm not the gushing sweaty type, but I came out of the class as drenched as if I had just stepped out of the shower.

At one point Brandon had us doing these choreographed kickboxing maneuvers, and it was utterly embarrassing for me because I am so uncoordinated and I couldn't get them down. I was stumbling really bad and pretty much just wanted to quit. The situation worsened when my lack of motivation caught Brandon's attention, and he came over to walk me through the steps in front of the whole class. He pointed out that I was trying to watch the other students too much, and I needed to relax and just do it, without worrying about whether I did it perfectly or not. After a few more failures, he made me do the moves with my eyes closed, because again, I was trying to watch the other members of the class perform the maneuvers instead of just relaxing and doing them. After a while, I finally was able to do the moves (more or less), and the whole class erupted into applause. At that point I felt like that one commercial, "Want to get away?" I could just feel myself mentally sinking into embarrassment.

Later in the class, we had to pair up with a partner to practice jabs, hooks, push kicks, and round kicks. Today's class had 19 students, so inevitably someone was going to wind up without a partner, in which case that person is paired up with Brandon. I am never paired off with Brandon. It's usually an experienced male with a more advanced belt that is willing to pair up with the sensei. I began by pairing off with Sarah, and after some shuffling around, she and I got separated and I was standing across from another regular in the class...I can't recall his name. We were getting ready to begin when Sensei Brandon pulled me away from my partner and had me pair up with him. Petrifying. I had to go eight rounds of punching and kicking with a fourth degree black belt--an absolute master of his trade. How the hell did that happen? And all the other students in the class got to switch off with their partners, meaning that for the first three minutes one would punch or kick while the other held the pad, and then they would switch off. But I was required to be the aggressor for every single round with Brandon. Because of the fact that we were so unequally yoked, obviously there was no way he could punch or kick me--I'd be thrown across the room. So there was no stopping, no rest periods, just go go go.

After getting such one-on-one instruction from Brandon, I feel a combination of invigoration and guilt. Invigoration because Brandon really pumped me up and I could feel my punches and kicks (especially the kicks) improving. But guilt because he just wasted all this time on an uncoordinated, hopeless white belt. He was so patient and motivational, and he really should reserve that energy for someone who stands a chance of gaining something from it. I'm a lost cause.

Operation Christmas Child

I've been cranky today, but for no good reason, really. This morning the kids had their karate promotions, and the whole event was long--it lasted for nearly three hours. Trinity had already taken her belt test yesterday, so she was just there strictly for the promotion. But the Little Ninjas didn't actually take their test until today, so we had to show up an hour before the actual promotions so Elijah could test. The test for Little Ninjas is a full hour long, which is no small feat for five and six year olds. Elijah did well, but by the end he was stumbling...you could just tell he was tired. Luckily he still passed. One thing that was kind of cool was that they were short on judges, so I got to judge. They assigned me two Little Ninjas who I had to evaluate, which was funny because I don't know a damn thing about karate. But I felt like my assigned boys were very sharp and did a great job, so I gave them both good scores. After the Little Ninjas completed their test, the promotions commenced and Elijah received his leadership stripe and Trin got her orange belt in karate. She was thrilled. She has had this nervous energy since yesterday, wondering if she passed her test, so when she was awarded her orange belt, I felt happy and relieved for her.

After the promotion ceremony, we went out to run errands, and it was just a long, grueling day. Among other things, we had to shop for Moo's birthday and for our "Operation Christmas Child" boxes. Operation Christmas Child is an awesome organization that sends Christmas gifts to children in impoverished nations that would otherwise not have a Christmas. You choose a gender and an age group (i.e. female, age 5-9), and then you take a standard-sized shoe box and fill it with gifts for your child. Here's a link to a great video segment regarding Operation Christmas Child: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZA7bQJ_7xI. It portrays a woman from Bosnia who once received one of these boxes when she was a child, and how it impacted her life. I'm not going to lie, the video clip does have a Christian-driven agenda, but all religion aside, I think Lejla just has a powerful story. Clint and I do two boxes every year, one for a boy Elijah's age, and one for a girl Trinity's age. This year our little girl is getting art supplies, a doll, mittens, a cute new toothbrush with toothpaste, a candy cane full of "runts" (gotta cancel out that toothpaste somehow) and a new purse. Our boy is also getting the runt-filled candy cane, toothbrush/toothpaste, and mittens, but is also getting stickers, two small coloring books, a beenie, and a car. I so badly wanted to get our girl a diary, but couldn't find one anywhere.

My dream is to one day be one of the people to actually deliver the boxes. Well that, and to publish a novel. Someday. Over the rainbow.

Randomness

Just some random things....

First, I just read my sister's blog regarding our day at the shooting range, and it tripped me out because you could swear that we copied off each other. We basically described our day yesterday in the same manner. So is this a twin-thing or a lack-of-creativity-thing?

Secondly, I was thinking about the other day in kickboxing, how Sensei Brandon had us do 175 crunches. Every time he looked over in my direction, I would do the crunches quickly and enthusiastically, as if there was nothing in the world that I would rather be doing than those beautiful crunches. But every time he turned in the other direction to monitor other students in the class, I would slow down and do these fake type of "barely" crunches...or I would take a quick break--and then of course continue on the moment he looked in my direction again. I don't know why I'm bothering to write about this. I keep thinking about that saying "A true judge of character is what you do when you think no one is watching." I guess by this criteria, my true character is pretty lazy.

Third random thing: I've been sneaking and reading Kristyn's blog. I only say "sneaking," because on my last e-mail to her, I told her that I would no longer frequent her blog (or something to that effect). I actually meant it when I said it, too. And the funny thing is I never actually followed Kristyn's blog before the whole explosive e-mail incident. I read a couple things here and there, but that was about it. But now I can't seem to stay away. Her posts just have a down-to-earth quality to them that keeps me wanting to read more. The reason why I bring this up is because my sister commented on Kristyn's latest entry, and in Kristyn's reply back, there was the suggestion that she reads my sister's blog. This surprised me...I had no idea she followed Shannon's blog. So then I connected a few dots and figured out that, since I am listed as my sister's sole follower on her blog, there is a possibility that Kristyn is also reading mine...or has read mine in the past. I highly doubt this, because I just think she would find my blog incredibly uninteresting and boring to read, but there is that possibility. So if Kristyn is reading my blog, I guess this is my way of confessing to her that I have been reading her's, too.

Fourth random thing: Clinton and I have been having issues lately. Nothing big, but we both admitted last night that we've been experiencing somewhat of a "disconnect" with each other lately. There are nights when I go to bed and realize that we didn't share a single part of our day with each other. We think the Internet might be a big part of the problem. We both love being online, so we can easily sit next to each other for two hours on our laptops and never once have an actual conversation (other than the occasional grunting or monosyllabic words). We are the proverbial little old couple, sitting next to each other in our rocking chairs but never truly communicating (well...minus the rocking chairs and plus a little technology). So Clinton said that when I get home from work this evening, we are going to turn everything off, turn a little music on, and do nothing but talk for at least a half hour. That is why, for the first time ever, I am typing a blog entry from work...this way I won't be tempted to type one when I get home. Of course, now I'm negating work responsibilities, but that is neither here nor there.

Last random thing: I wasn't able to sleep with my gun last night (since I left it over at Shan's), which made for a rough night of sleep. Before Clint left last night, I was complaining that I had no way to protect myself. So then he gives me a sword. A friggen sword. I was dying laughing. I can just imagine... "Excuse me Mr. Intruder Sir, would you mind stepping back four feet so I can cream you?" I finally traded the sword for a more common place knife. I hate knives though...they make me shudder (I know, this makes no sense in light of the fact that I have no problem with guns). I'm ready to have my gun back. But when am I going to have time to drive up the mountain to go get it this week? Sorry--rhetorical question.

This & That

I have been so mind-numbingly busy and feel nearly desperate to have just one evening to sit in front of the television and personify a couch potato. Of course, here I am cutting into my free time right now by typing a new post instead of vegging.

Today was a decent day. I had to period sub for a choir class, which turned out to be a pretty easy gig. Then for my own classes, the students had to take their benchmark, so I actually got some time behind my desk. After work I stayed for tutoring, and during the last five minutes me and one of my students, Cole, decided to race. He was certain that he was faster than me, I felt certain that I was faster than him, so of course it was only natural to figure out who was right and who was wrong. Ironically, we wound up with a dead-even tie, so now we have to do a re-match during next week's tutoring session (we accomplish a lot of worthwhile things during tutoring).

Sarah went to kickboxing with Clint and me yesterday. I feel really proud of her. She was exhausted and I could tell that she was internally dying, but she hung in there and gave it everything she had. Brandon was wonderful with her too...he was very empathetic and motivational. She signed up for a two year contract, but I feel worry that "life" will start getting in the way and she'll wind up not going. I only worry about this because I know how hard it is to motivate myself to go consistently, and she has an even further drive and a busier life.

I guess Kristyn and I are no longer friends, although it's not like we really had a relationship anyway, so I guess I'm not really "out" anything. She wrote a long post about me in her blog, and although it painted an unflattering image of me, a part of me feels touched by the fact that she wrote all that she did. I know it sounds strange, but the fact that she took the time to say what she did at least sends me the message that she cares somewhat about our situation. We sort of left things off at an impasse, although based on her last message she was quite angry with me--we are both way to stuck on our own perspectives and can't seem to give in on certain things. At least we've had a little bit of closure, I suppose, before calling it quits. The funny thing is, despite everything, if she ever did move back to the desert, she is someone I'd actually enjoy hanging out with. There is something about her cynicism that I find refreshingly honest. But I know that it's not a two-way street--I'd get on her nerves immensely. I'm way too optimistic and God-loving for her taste. Plus I'd want to talk about my kids once in awhile.

Parade

This is the longest I have gone without writing a post since I started my blog. I just haven't felt inspired to write lately. It's weird, because I feel like I have such a pleasant life, but it makes for really uninteresting blog entries. Not that I want something dramatic to happen just so I will have something to write about, but my life is so...settled...and a lot of times I just don't know what to say. I could say that today I'm still a teacher, still a mom, and my life has the occasional little anecdotal events at best, but that's about it.

Today I was in a parade. I've never been in a parade before, so it's kind of funny that my first time in one was today, at the age of 30. The parade was so much fun. Clint and I were there with our kickboxing group, and our martial art's class somehow wound up leading the entire parade even though they had registered late. We had to march down Main St., singing this cheer intermittently. Every time the parade stopped, we had to perform. Us kickboxers rotated each time we stopped, so sometimes I was kicking, sometimes I was punching, and sometimes I was holding pads for others who were kicking and punching.

The one thing I didn't expect was to see people that I know along the parade route. I've never known anyone to attend our city's pitiful little parade, so I was surprised when people in the audience hollered my name. I was thrilled to see Matt and Alana among the spectators. They both looked so excited and surprised to see me and Clint in the parade. But we never did tell anyone that we were going to be in it, so I guess why would they expect to see us there?

Elijah and his Little Ninjas group were in the very front our group, and they were so cute. For the first half of the route, they were smiling and waving at the crowds. But for the second half, it started to get hot, and they kept sneakily hitching a ride with the truck that was leading the parade. They would just jump in real quick (when the parade slowed or stopped) and enjoy the ride. I'm pretty sure that this was frowned upon, but we thought it was hilarious that our little ninja group kept getting smaller and smaller. Trinity was the team leader for her class, and she was awesome. Her job was to keep everyone in her group in a straight line and to start the demonstrations. She sounded so loud and authoritative, but in a good way. She really seemed to know what she was doing.

After the parade we went to Route 66. We actually had a really pleasant time, other than the fact that it was uncomfortably hot. First we browsed through all of the booths, and then we took the kids to the bounce houses. The kids had a great time in the bounce houses, but we had to cut them off after about forty minutes because Elijah's face was getting so red and flushed, even though he was drinking tons of water. I worry about him, because he has such a delicate little body (unlike Trin, who's as sturdy as a horse), plus he's just my baby. After the bounce house we came back and I went cruising with my mom in the Corvette. That was my favorite part, because I loved seeing all of the awesome classic cars and their amazing paint jobs, plus I had a great time hanging out with my mom. The AC was definitely a bonus, too. While I was with my mom, the kids went cruising in Emmett's truck. They loved it.

Completely unrelated, but we are seriously considering letting our house in SL's go into foreclosure. I feel guilty because the idea actually excites me.

Movie Night at the Dojo

We went to the Movie Night at the dojo tonight. It was kind of cool to be in there with all the lights out and everyone curled up around pillows. The highlight of the evening though happened before the movie began. Some of the boys were fooling around (in amazing, talented ways) and accidentally cracked the base of Sensei Brandon's $400 punching bag, spilling water across the mat. Josh immediately tried to get away from the bag, but the water basically turned the mat into a slip-and-slide, and he wound up slipping and falling all over the floor. When he finally escaped the "flood" area, the guys all realized that Brandon was going to be furious when he saw his punching bag. So they tried to cover the situation before Brandon came back into the dojo (he was out in the parking lot). Josh grabbed a mop and Bo found some black electric tape, and they both hurriedly tried to repair the damages while Matt played the role of look-out. Josh was mopping the water up as fast as he could when suddenly Matt shouted out "He's coming!" Josh responded with "Oh crap!" and threw the mop onto the middle of the mat and ran away, ducking for cover behind a bench. When Brandon walked in, there was a wet mat, a mop lying perspicuously on the floor, and several very guilty looking people. Brandon demanded, "What happened?" and Josh crept out and stated, "I'm really sorry sir. I just couldn't hold it any longer and had an accident on the mat." Of course that set all of us into hysterics (yes, I know...we're such mature "grown-ups") and blew Josh's cover story. Little by little Brandon learned the truth, and he was not happy, to say the least. Those boys will probably be doing push-ups until Memorial Day.