The Karate Kid

Another Saturday, another karate class for Jake. Jake's been taking karate at the Y for the past month and a half and just started his second summer session. Like most parents who get their kids into karate, we thought it would be good for discipline and self-confidence. Jake enjoys it, and he's made major strides in terms of doing the moves, focusing on the instructor, and not running over to us five minutes into class to go to the potty. These are major hurdles for a four-year-old boy, particularly when you give them license to hit, kick, and scream "Ki-ya!" for 45 minutes at the top of their lungs, while dressing them in black uniforms that make them look like mini-Ninja warriors.

Last week, the instructor said that he wanted to speak to some of the parents after class. As Mr. Terrance went from family to family, I kept waiting for him to say "Jake's mom and dad"...but that didn't happen. I leaned over to Rich, immediately sensing what this meant. "Jake's not going to test for a belt", I whispered. He was incredulous, as was I. After all, just two weeks ago the instructor came over to us and told us how much Jake has improved since the first 6-week session. I got so giddy about that positive comment, I posted it as my facebook status for the entire weekend (see below).

Maria Moscariello-Pownall is so proud that Jake got a special shout-out from his karate I instructor today. Go Jake!!!! August 1 at 1:07pm · Comment · View Feedback (8)

So how could this be happening? After class, our disappointment was confirmed, as Mr. Terrance told the parents that their kids would be testing for a belt at the end of this six-week session. Simultaneously, my heart sank and my blood pressure skyrocketed. I mean, there's a three-year-old in Jake's class who already has a yellow stripe on his belt and barely knows his left from his right. How is it possible that in a few weeks, this kid will have two more stripes than Jake?

After last week's class, Jake crashed out in the car, which gave Rich and I some time to vent. Phrases like "totally unfair," and "WTF" came fast and furious out of our mouths as we were riding up I-95 to a pool party. Suddenly, I had become some hypercompetitive mother who was talking smack about toddlers and questioning whether Mr. Terrance (who has some serious ass-kicking black belts and a studio of his own) really KNOWS what my son is capable of.

With this in mind, we started this week with a commitment for Jake to do 10-15 minutes of karate practice each day. He wasn't waxing cars or painting fences (yet). Just basic moves, like straight punches, shotguns, reverse punches, and roundhouse kicks. So as I geared Jake up for class today, I was eager for Jake to prove to Mr. Terrance just how wrong he was about Jake's readiness to test.

Due to the size of the class, the kids always get split up between Mr. Terrance and his assistant. And today, Jake was relegated to the back line to train with the assistant... along with the ADHD kid who can't sit still, the cute Indian girl who hardly speaks English, and the five other kids who just started karate this session. The testers made up the front line, and Mr. Terrance told them all about testing and took them through the routine of combination punches that Jake, Rich, and I had worked so hard on last week. Meanwhile, Jake got to practice basic punching techniques (yawn).

So what's a mom to do? Jake doesn't even understand the concept of testing for a belt, let alone feel slighted or dejected at not being asked to do so. And for that, I am grateful. He did great at karate class today, and I know in my heart that that's what this class is supposed to be about - Jake having fun and being proud of what he's accomplishing each week. I know deep down that this is more of a test for me. The bad news is that I am failing at it miserably.

Where the hell is Mr. Miyagi when you need him?