The Family that Kicks Together....

....sticks together!

In the beginning, I was a white belt....

In March of this year I started taking martial arts with my daughter as a way to have an activity that we could both do together. She started taking classes in December and I ended up getting talked into putting on a (free) uniform and taking a few classes along side her. At first I thought it was kind of corny and only did it because my daughter was in it and seemed to enjoy it a lot. As I got into it and started moving up in rank, I really started getting into it and actually enjoying it.

I'll admit... I really don't like or have the self-discipline to exercise. Treadmills and bikes are just boring.... running and cycling to nowhere just doesn't appeal to me. Martial arts, on the other hand, gives me more structure and a goals to actually achieve. While trying to master tae kwon do routines, kung fu forms, weapons and kicks (and soon sparring), a nice side effect results.... I work physically (and mentally) harder than I've ever worked before, walking out of each class drenched in sweat. Since April I've dropped two sizes and developed better muscle tone (I love feeling on my flexed quads... yea, it's a bit narcissistic). I also like the idea of being a bad ass and the thought that maybe one day I could beat someone up (but only if I really needed to).  I also still achieve my original goal of connecting and bonding with my daugther through working together toward a common goal, and our friendly competition because she's a rank ahead of me.

So this past weekend we went to our first tae kwon do invitational tournament.... well, my daughter competed anyway (I just couldn't afford for both of us to compete this time). Mini-Me made me SO proud, coming in first in her division in forms and second in board breaks. Stay tuned for my debut in the next tournament hosted by our school in March.

Check out my Mini-Me as she does our tae kwon do form.... Bad Assery, Jr.:

And you should also check out our instructor's incredibly impressive performance at the tournament. His entire family are bad asses. Wow.

The Hair Chronicles

I posted an abridged version of yesterday's post, The END = Entirely New Direction, as a note on my Facebook profile, along with a picture of my new 'do.  I received several shocked responses, but most of them were very positive and encouraging.  My older sister wrote me a response that truly touched me and really put my "loc journey" into perspective..... my locs were merely a piece of my ever changing self, and like the title of yesterday's post, this isn't the END, but just a new direction.

I wanted to share this with you, loved ones..... the perspective from someone who loves me and has known me my ENTIRE life, and has seen all the various manifestations of my hair (and myself) over the past 30 years......

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I am sorry you had drama :( You should call me. As your sister who has known you since birth... your locs are not what I know you for. I have seen ALL your hair drama and triumphs. At birth you had the biggest and most luscious head of hair in a giant baby afro (I have the pic).

Then long pigtails and braids with the ball barrettes that mom had to chase you around the house campaigning for help from your sisters and sit on you to comb (this still makes me laugh).

You managed to escape the jerry curl years (I block those out and deny they happened) which left the rest of us short and shaggy. Then there was the perm years with the high pony tail and the rest down the back... do not forget the big bangs that we used to fight about on the way to school because I was hot and needed the window down and you were in the back and needed to keep your bangs from blowing all over (I cherish some of the memories from us going to HS together).

Do not overlook the poetic justice braids during the pro-africa- do-the-right-thang-public-enemy-de-la-soul years (I cannot believe I wore nylon hair... kankalon?).

Then you came to the Purdue University campus to visit me... and had the salon and cut that long hair all down to a very short curly natural. All the ladies in the salon were in shock and awe. It was like a scene from Waiting to Exhale. Or like the episode of The Game when Mel chopped off her pony tail [starts at 4:20] and Tausha said "Every time a woman cuts off her hair, somewhere a little black girl cries!"  The ladies in the shop acted like you committed a rash act but you made a decision and did it. It was not an accident.

Next you grew it out... afro, twists, THEN the locks, then color locks. Now no locks and a fro again. I see the gasps in some of the post and it is like being in that salon again… just shock because it is natural hair.


So see… I know and love you for the head under the hair… not just your hair. And I personally know you and my lovely sister the giraffe. :) So roar like a giraffe or do what ever sound you think they make when they mean business!


(FYI: Giraffes don't make sounds.... but if they DID, this is what I'd want mine to sound like when it means business*)

(*and for those not in the know, that's the sound Perry the Platypus from Phineas and Ferb makes.  He's a semi-aquatic egg laying mammal of action.)