Control

It feels so utterly doggone strange to have no schoolwork hanging over my head. I’ve found myself wanting to sleep much more than I expected. I guess it’s part of the decompression process.

***

I put on some pads last night, gave THEBOY his boxing gloves, and did some sparring with him.

“You’d better put on your cup,” he said.

No no no, kid… really, let’s avoid the crotch strikes.

***

So yeah, that was hours before he got in a tussle with his sister and head-butted her.

Hoo boy.

Anyone who knows my son knows he’s a sweet, conscientious kid. Really. But I can’t ignore the fact that lately when he’s upset he’s getting more physical than he once did.

And I’m the guy teaching him to do these things.

The failure on my part is, I believe, not emphasizing guidelines for using these tools as much as I should. And we DO discuss this. We do. But I guess I need to do more.

Random violence has just been a part of my life since before I was his age. If you know me, you know I’m a peaceful man, a guy who tries to be funny, tries to get along with everyone.

And you also know that the damnedest things happen to me. They just do. I haven’t had to be physical with anyone in decades (schoolyard stuff). But again and again stuff happens. Heck, three times this year alone I’ve been in confrontations with strangers that nearly turned physical.

The fact that I’ve not had to fight in decades is a good indicator to me that, despite how trouble follows me around, I’ve been pretty adept at using the grey matter to get out of scrapes.

But any one of these situations could have required me to defend myself, and after one that came awfully close this spring, I decided I was unwise to have no tools. And, as Whit pointed out, I would benefit greatly from the confidence and calm demeanor that come with being a skilled martial artist.

***

And, I realized, I’m doing a disservice to my son by not preparing him.

***

What I want THEBOY to get from his training is the attitude that:

I can punch, elbow, kick, knee, and subdue an attacker on the ground if necessary.
I am so confident my skills will give me a good chance to prevail that this piddly playground stuff that happens isn’t worth bothering with most of the time. These kids have no idea how big a mistake it’d be to jack with me.

***

We live our dreams through our children. Our fears too.

***

And hell yes, I mean to teach THEGIRL how to do it too. Some families are into softball, some are into twirling… our family, hopefully, will be into joint locks.

***

So I’m thinking of putting Juke on a blog.

***

A statistician joke:

A woman in the hospital gives birth to twins. The family calls the pastor to come baptize the babies.

Only the father instructs the pastor to baptize just one of the babies.

“But why?” asks the pastor.

“The other one is for control.”

***

The man who told me that laughed out loud and slapped me on the back. I found that behavior far funnier than the joke itself.

***

Ya’ll be good.