The Wonderful, Horrible Gift

On Saturday, VikingDad came home from therapy.  (He's in therapy, I'm in therapy, we're in therapy together, WildGirl is in therapy, WildBoy is going to start therapy pretty soon... we're all a big bunch of loony goons around here.)  On his way home from therapy, he stopped at his favorite store (Fleet Farm) and bought a thousand truckloads of candy and little metal flashlights for the kids and me as gifts. 

(Here, kids!  Now go annoy your mother.)

The candy was bad enough, but... giving the kids flashlights?  What was he thinking?  Especially since we all had caught the plague and were grumpy and tired.

(The tiny metal flashlight in question.  What can go wrong?)

VikingDad got that particular flashlight for a reason.  That reason is that this flashlight is, in his words, "nigh indestructible."  And he says that like it's a good thing.  So, let me enlighten you, VikingDad, as to what exactly you did by bringing these flashlights into our home.

Dear VikingDad, I understand that our kids destroy stuff.  They do it frequently and they do it well.  At this point, they could enter a talent competition and win, because of how well they destroy stuff.  And yes, it's true that WildGirl has truly tested this theory.  The first 10 minutes saw her hurl her flashlight across the room to see if it would break when it hit the wall.  As soon as you left for work on Monday, she threw it in her bath water.  She used it to smash play dough (and missed, banging it against the floor), swung it around her head in a wide arc and let go, and, MOST IMPORTANTLY, hit her brother with it.

You see, VikingDad, there is a good reason you don't give your kids indestructible things as gifts.  If something is indestructible, it can be used as a weapon.

(Would you trust this child with a weapon???)

So, like the little barbarian children they are, they have been hurling their flashlights at each other, bashing their flashlights into each other, and generally having an alternately wonderful and torturous time.  But, the real reason you don't give children flashlights as toys is because they do not understand the concept of NOT shining it in your eyes to wake you up!  Especially when you have the plague and NEED sleep.

Sleep is of the essence!

But no, instead you are accosted on every turn by a little mini-demon wielding a flashlight of doom and shining it into your eyes whenever you doze off, screaming, "MAMA!  WAKE UP!" 

(Nooooo!  I'm blind!)

They have been playing doctor with these flashlights.  And their patients are not willing.  They have been shining these flashlights everywhere... mostly in people's eyes, but also into mouths, ears, and WildBoy even shined it into his own butt to see what was up there.  (The curiosity of children knows no bounds.)

So, you see, VikingDad, it is really not a good idea to give little barbarians flashlights as gifts.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get some shuteye now that the kids are in school (and therefore someone else's problem).

Your loving but frustrated wife, BarbarianMom

Getting Up Early

I apologize for taking so long to write a new post.  First, I had some personal drama.  Next, a security guard quit, so I decided, in the interest of money, to take over his shifts (well, the ones I could make work with my schedule).  These are early, early morning shifts, folks.  Not even at the asscrack of dawn- the dawn hasn't even woke up yet. 

(Basically, it's still night.)

Besides the whole lack of sleep thing, it works out pretty well.  VikingDad gets the kids on the bus in the morning.  I come home, get an hour nap, and get the kids off the bus.  No childcare need be purchased.

And it's not as difficult to get up at 3:30AM as you'd think.  I hate getting up at 4:30 or 5:30 because my body knows it's bullshit. 
"Hey, what the fuck do you think you're doing?  It's not morning yet- go back to sleep!"  So says my body.

(Not impressed.)

But, at 3:30, my body doesn't even recognize that it's morning yet. 
"Hey, we're getting up in the middle of the night!  We must be getting ready to sneak behind enemy lines and save the world, or why else would we be up this early???  I'd better shoot adrenaline all over the place."
So, my eyes pop wide open is if the whole Third Reich were coming for me the second my alarm goes off.

(I'm awake!  Where are the marauders???) 

Then, after getting ready for work, I have to cross my half acre of yard to get to the driveway.  Since I live on a farm in the middle of nowhere, during the daytime the farm smells vaguely goaty, somewhat like fresh cut hay (in the summer), and most definitely pastoral.  At 3:30 AM however, it smells like wild things.  If my brain didn't wake me up with shocks of adrenaline, I would wake up the second I stepped out the door.  The primal part of the human brain knows that darkness, proximity to wilderness, and the slightly musky smell of wild animals that have recently passed through are signs that things are not quite safe and it's time to be alert.

 (This might be waiting for me out in the darkness.)

True to every hick stereotype, we have big dogs that sleep on our porch in nice weather, so the first thing I do is check them.  If they are awake, it's not likely that a bear is going to crash out of nowhere and maul me.  On the other hand, if they are asleep, anything goes.  If I can sneak up on my dogs, so can a super stealthy ninja bear bent on destruction.

(Oliver sleeping on the porch.)

But, so far at least one of them is aware of my presence before I check on them.  (Not today, ninja bears!)  From there I can cautiously enjoy the night/morning/whatever it is.  This morning, the sky was clear (actually pretty rare) so I could see the entire night (morning?) sky.  It was magnificent, and the cool, fresh air of late summer invigorated me.  That was all well and good, but, when I get up so early, I have to beware the morning crash that inevitably follows when my brain finally realizes that there are no Nazis around to fight, and, in fact, we've been awake this whole time without doing anything remotely life-threatening.

(Where are all the Nazis?  You promised me Nazis.)

This usually happens around 7.  My brain obviously is capable of tricking itself into thinking there are Nazis for 3.5 hours but no more.  So, come 7, a powerful fog of sleepiness will envelop me.

(Must.  Not. Sleep.)

I will be forced to walk around the guard shack pretending every rustle in the grass is a mini-Nazi sneaking up on me in order to get my brain to care about being awake.  It doesn't usually work because, although it's easy to convince my brain that Nazis and ninja bears are real threats in the dead of night (early morning?  Whatever), in broad daylight my brain is not so easily fooled.  Years of evolution have taught our species that Bad Things happen when it's night, but in the day we're kings of the castle and obviously nothing is going to invade our sense of complacency (except mosquitoes, who are a constant threat no matter when you go out.)  In fact, it's usually the constant biting of mosquitoes that keep me awake the rest of the day. 

 (Mosquitoes totally count as Nazis.)




Today, though, someone accidentally blasted their car horn when I was right by his car handing him paperwork.  That woke me up!

A Very Jujitsu Summer

What is more barbarian-esque then to smash ones opponents wrists, elbows, shoulders?  How about throwing them to the ground and breaking their fingers?  Crushing their windpipe?  Well, obviously this all appeals to me, so I joined Jujitsu.  I've done martial arts off and on ever since high school, and they all have a special place in my heart.  But there's something just... joyful... about the beautiful devastation that can be created from Jujitsu techniques.

(See?  Joyful.)

That photo was taken at Camp Kodenkan, an amazing Danzan Ryu Jujitsu camp in Duluth, MN.  It's a long weekend full of beating the crap out of each other, drinking, ziplining, and wreaking havoc.  In other words, it's wicked fun. 

(If this is your idea of "wicked fun".  It is for me, anyway.)

I also got to cut things to bits with a razor-sharp katana.  Sadly, I have no photos of that.  How often do you get to cut things to bits with a katana, though?  Not terribly often, and it's pretty badass.  I managed to slice a pool noodle like cheese, and slice a bamboo mat in tiny pieces.  The black belts kept reiterating that the bamboo mats are roughly the density of human arms, which helped the visualization immensely.

(Visualization.  It really helps with the technique... and the maniacal grin is just a bonus.)

Not only did I get to do amazing shit, but I also got to meet amazing people.

(These people, to be exact.)

I was a white belt at camp, but soon afterward I had my blue belt test.  In Danzan Ryu, the belt order is white, blue, green, brown, black.  And after black, there's black and red which means you're so awesome that even black belt isn't enough to adequately indicate your badassery.  So I'm now a blue belt!  Yay! 

 (I'm the one on the far left in case you couldn't tell.)  :P

My test went well, and I didn't let the nerves get to me too much.  That's the trick- adrenaline can mess up your focus and get you to mess up, but it's important to learn how to either A. control your adrenaline or B. be able to do techniques correctly while under its influence (ideally, both).  Otherwise if you ever have to use it in a real situation you might make a fatal mistake.  Which sounds like a lot of pressure, and it kind of is.  When you do Jujitsu you're doing a lot of self defense training, which means you're thinking a lot about what to do if you are attacked in real life, and you have to deal with the fear and realizations that come with it.  Not only do you have to learn the techniques but you have to train your "flight, fight, or freeze" response and learn how to think through your actions while in a panic-inducing situation.  Tests are little mini-versions of that.  In one of the camp classes, a gun and knife defense class, they used real (but obviously not loaded) guns (instead of the wood replicas I'd worked with before.)  The fact of it is that a real gun is hella intimidating when pointed at your head and it's difficult to act because you instinctively understand that any action you take might get your head blown off.  It's so important to learn how to act even with that weight on your mind.

So, Jujitsu is not only fun, but important too.  If, of course, you want to be a badass warrior (and really, why wouldn't you?)

(It's good to have goals.)