First, let me take you back to a fine afternoon in early April. As it is wont to do, my mind was on Jiu-Jitsu, what class we’d be doing in Jiu-Jitsu, how many more hours until Jiu-Jitsu. Finally, overflowing with eager anticipation, I messaged Mrs. Instructor.
When Surfer Dude (SD) isn’t present and Instructor needs a demonstration partner, he usually scans the faces along the wall before saying, “So-in-so, can I use you, please?” often with a cupped hand beckoning the person onto the mat.
This time we had barely lined up, Instructor was still walking onto the mat, and didn’t even look when he called me out, as though it was a given.
That’s cool, and it’s still an honor, but when I reached the center of the mat, I saw SD standing on the far end.
Normally, I play the part of dutiful partner, staying on script, making myself as unmemorable as possible, but I couldn’t help but look at SD and throw my arms up in a “What the heck?!” fashion. He just smiled broadly then trained his eyes on Instructor.
I did the same because focusing on Instructor made it easier not to think about SD watching me. While I did his job. And he sized me up for competency.
Apparently he was just waiting to get across the mat without interrupting, because he left shortly after that. I breathed a little easier.
I’ve watched SD reprise his role enough times to *mostly* know how the game is played.
I’ve watched SD reprise his role enough times to *mostly* know how the game is played.
I finally finally FINALLY made it to a legit Class 20, the one I conned cajoled kindly asked Surfer Dude to give me an X on my card for after I demonstrated mastery and played 5,000 rounds of rock, paper, scissors.
I returned the next day for class 21, and what did I see on my card????
I approached SD at the desk and pointed out the problem. “Of all the classes for me to miss getting a second X. The one for which I worked so hard to get the first X.”
“Let’s do rock, paper, scissors,” he suggested.
“No!” I fake-yelled and walked away as he marked my card.
“Not even for fun?” he asked.
“Well, okay.” I returned to the desk. I shot rock. He threw down
I studied up. I watched the videos and did multiple mental reps to prep for the next mini Reflex Development class.
I knew the moves before the first mini RD, yet they alluded me when I needed them. Not this time, brain. Not this time.
I messaged Mrs. Instructor:
Since I was the only one staying for RD, lounging solo on the mat, waiting, Instructor walked over and said something roughly to the effect of, “When Surfer Dude is ready, just do a minute each of mount control.”
“Okay,” I said, disheartened. I wanted to prove myself by doing the moves I had utterly failed at the first night.
However, SD sauntered over, not having been given instructions, and said, “Let’s do the stuff we did the first night.” That you utterly failed at was kindly left unsaid.
In one Jiu-Jitsu class, Instructor was watching me do the moves and pointed out that the position the “bad guy” wound up in was perfect for Twisting Arm Control from a different lesson.
Do I know how to do Twisting Arm Control? Why, of course I do.
Could I remember in that moment how to do Twisting Arm Control? Why, of course I couldn’t.
Instructor had to remind me of the steps, but, before he could say, “Jump into side mount,” I proudly jumped into side mount! Facing. The wrong. Direction.
Later I reflected on what had gone wrong there and realized it was probably because it was his left arm, when I’ve only practiced this move right handed.
Knowing I need to work on that, I was excited to learn of new mini-Reflex Development classes happening after most regular classes.
In the first one, run by Surfer Dude, it was just me and one other student. I’ll call him…
Calm down. Not Beloved Neighbor, but others we really like too. It’s super sad. Yesterday she texted our little mini neighbor group that there’s stuff in their garage anyone is welcome to.
We stopped by.
Let’s just think of it as us helping them out, keeping them from making multiple trips to Goodwill, rather than perusing someone else’s junk for freebies, mmkay? We were happy to lighten their carload. Goodwill isn’t that close, after all.
I HAD been thinking about getting a Dustbuster. Unfortunately, they couldn’t find the charger, so I’ll get to use it for so long as the battery holds. What to do with it after that? Errr. No idea.
There was also one of those cool cupcake carrying bins that would’ve come in handy in the past, and now will in the future. Outdoor Christmas lights? Sure, why not? Some Hardy Boys books I hope Joe will enjoy when he’s older. A couple of sleeping bags that may prove useful. And then…
Before Jiu-Jitsu class formally started one night, two students were trying to do a particular move. They couldn’t remember how it started (the indicator) and were doing the parts they could remember rather clumsily. Doing it incorrectly repeatedly is not a good way to practice. It would’ve been wrong for me to stand by and watch.
“You doing class 20?” I asked.
“Take the back from the guard?” one said.
I nodded.
“Wow, she even knows the numbers,” one said to the other.
I know this number, for a very specific reason, which I’ll tell you in a moment.
I’ve had a couple more elbow escape classes. You know, that one move I’m good at? In one of these classes, Instructor told me I was “on fire,” and said, “No point deductions,” which are my three favorite words.
Surfer Dude said, “That was so quick, I didn’t have a chance to commentate.” Poor guy.
In a slightly different elbow escape class, my partner said, “She’s got that down.”
“Yes. She. Does,” Instructor said as he walked away to watch another pairing.
“Those four stripes aren’t just for show,” Surfer Dude said.
I don’t know what it is with me and this particular move. Not only did I do it with my eyes closed, but I was even humming! Not intentionally to be a punk, mind you. It was just… happening.
Meanwhile, I hate to break this to you, but in the most recent triangle choke class, Instructor told us to lift our head and smile at our partner if they forgot to keep head control.
Frequently I’m partnered with the kid, whom I’ll call Billy. (Get it?) Even when I’m not the only female, I get matched with Billy. That’s not my favorite, since I’m unlikely to be attacked by a 6th grader, but I get it. I’m closest in size to him, since I, too am built like an 11-year-old boy.
Anyway, one night he did some move which was apparently cool. I didn’t see it, but Instructor asked if he had done it on purpose. Billy said no. (Points for honesty!) Instructor said he shouldn’t admit when he does something cool by mistake.
Later, Instructor told Billy to really make me work for it, which I appreciated. So Billy put up a fight. Instructor: “Whoa, Betsy. You got your knees up behind his back. Pulling out stuff from class 11.” He turned to Surfer Dude. “Did you see that?”
“Yeah.” Surfer Dude nodded appreciatively.
It’s a good thing I had just learned not to admit when I do something cool by accident.
In another class, we learned a new-to-me way of doing the headlock escape superbase variation, so I had no muscle memory to carry me through on this one. Instructor sat down in front of me to watch, so of course my mind immediately went blank.
I recently hit my 20th class of Betsy’s Jiu-Jitsu Journey: Round Two. During that class, Instructor said to me, “I’ve never given a fifth stripe before. Do you want me to add it to your belt?”
I pointed out that my first, first stripe was falling off anyway, so he might as well replace it.
“Do you want me to just do it after class, or should I call you up in front of everyone and do it then?” The latter is how stripes are normally awarded. I’m not usually one to want attention and fanfare, but this would mean I had just completed my 100th Jiu-Jitsu class.
And, darn it, I wanted some fanfare.
Motherhood and Martial Arts 