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Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Tae Kwon Do, Please Don't

I think I've said it before, I'm not afraid to put myself out there for my kids. I'll make a fool of myself or take the blame for something smelly in a heart beat if it means them not getting that sad chest shaking shamefully embarrassed feeling.

I also try very hard not to be the one to cause that feeling in them. Will I pick them up in my pj's? Absolutely not. If I feel horrible and have not moved from the couch all day, in line at school, my hair is pulled back and I am standing tall and feverish in my jeans.

Let me paint the scene for you on my most recent 'make um proud' moment.

Jake recently joined Tae kwon Do as a trial member with 2 of his friends.

This past Saturday was bring a friend day. He was going to ask his neighbor friend if he wanted to go but he wasn't home. On the way out he was a little nervous about going to class on friend day without actually bringing a friend. I told him he has nothing to worry about because he has 2 built in friends at class already! How perfect! But, just in case they don't make it, and I knew for a fact that one was going, I promised to be his friend and take the class with him.

Sure enough his friend G shows up. I am off the hook! I not only was able to ease his fear of being singled out by showing my possible support, but G was there to bail me out!

Off they go into class and what happens...the teacher places them apart from each other not realizing they are each others friend.

WHAT DO I DO!

I am in no way dressed for this. Not to even mention physically prepared! My outfit as a whole was nice, comfortable, stylish and fun. Break it down and it's a hot mess of inappropriate-ness! I had on "running pants" (not that I'd ever run in them), which are fine when covered up. Who wants to see my tush in tight joggers. A black tank top, again fine as long as it was covered. Pasty jigglies is so not in season. What brought my inappropriate-ness all together was my favorite WOOL over-sized cardi-sweater and chunky jewlery. No way was my sweater coming off. No way was my sweater meant to work out in.

While Jake is stretching, I am screaming in side F**K! WHAT TO DO! WHAT TO DO! It wasn't until they were done stretching and his teacher said to grab their friend that they brought as a partner that I started kicking my shoes off.

I knew he wasn't going to be brave enough to walk to the front of the class and grab G. In his mind, his teacher put him there, he needs to stay there. My plan was to go out and try and bring them together without causing too much disruption.

I march out in all my glory.

I get out to him....

me- Jake, come stand back here with me (he was on the very end of a line and I was in one all my own)
Jake- no
me- what do you mean no? I'm your partner like I promised.
Jake- this is my spot, you move up here.
me- (looking between him and Mr. SweatyHairyArms) no. you can come back here
Jake-no
me- debating on holding my head high and bailing on the kid. I was NOT going to be in a line all by myself. (Said line being the one closest to all the other adults sitting in the room watching the scene enfold.)

But we are both saved by the assistant who came over to give me a name tag. So now not only does a room full of strangers get to witness this, they will all know my name.

Like the child I felt I was being, I asked the assistant if Jake can stand by me and can he please tell him because he won't move.

Yeah, this is going awesome. I have already worked up a sweat in my WOOL sweater just by trying to convince my kid to stand next to me while do leg lunges.

Only 40 more minutes to go.

When we are given the ok to spread out and pair off, I start loud whispering to his friend 3 rows up.

me- G! Hey G! PSST! G! come 'er! G! Hey!

She either can't hear me or is choosing to not hear me so she doesn't have to be associated to the crazy women in the back row. She moves on and gets a partner.

I am forced to come to terms with it at this point. I am taking a full Tae Kwon Do class. I start flinging my jewelry off. Last thing I need is for my chunky ring to go flying off and nails Mr. SweatyHairyArms in the temple. I will also NOT be that mother exercising in the loud bounce necklace. I tried to make myself look like I fully intended to be there and participate all along.

The last half hour was full of me flinging my arms around trying to make it look like I am punching at the same time as doing a round house kick. Really I am trying to stay upright and wondering why in the hell they are teaching us how to round house kick when this is the first time I have stepped on this bare foot soaked mat! Shouldn't we start with the basics, like standing on one foot?!

Oh! And the HIYA! AGH! HIYA! The power yell was more of a thirsty pant for me. Water. I just needed water.

Towards the end we were told to sit down
ohthankgod
lay with our feet pointing towards our partner
sweetbabyjesus
and do 10 sit ups.
WHAT?!

When I was in high school I couldn't do real sit ups. I was the faker who put their feet high in the air and did crunches.

Yeah, I still faked it but with my feet on the ground. I went with the thought that if anyone glanced my way, it looked like I was just going down from the real sit up.

The 10 "sit ups" are over and guess what?

10 push ups.

I couldn't even do the fake ones in school.

I officially said F* It.

I rolled over and counted for Jake as he waved his tush in the air doing his fake push ups.

When the class was mercifully over and he got me out to the car I said...

Did I embarrass you out there?

Jake- hm no.

Me- really?! Did I make you proud?

Jake- yeah, a little.

A little is all I need to keep doing what I am willing to do for my boys.







3 comments:

  1. I love it!! I'm SOOOO glad I didn't go. You would have made me go too - and well, I would have embarrassed the heck out of poor Dawson. I'm proud of you!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I think it is cool that you went to the front.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I was search for this information several days but now I've got some extra information on your site :)

    ReplyDelete