Look Out, Jackie Chan...

We have signed our family up for Tae Kwon Do.  The whole family.  We thought it would be a great idea for exercise, discipline, and to just have something we could all learn and do together.  The kids were all very excited, (outside of the teenage girl, who went back and forth between being very excited to hating us for "forcing" her to do a sport.)  Our oldest was starting at a yellow belt because he had taken it before...and has made sure we are all well aware of his skills.

The youngest three take class very seriously.  Irelynn is a proud Tiny Tiger, and tries to execute every move with precision.  She has earned several stars in class already.  What Owen lacks in skill, he more than makes up for in enthusiasm and charm.  He has charmed his way into earning stars after class is over...even though his front kicks involve running forward, kicking so hard he nearly lands on his bottom, and letting out a warrior yell each time.  I'm not sure Irelynn appreciates that he can flash the instructor one of his smiles and convince her that he deserves a star, too.

(Owen and Connor taking the moves seriously)

(Irelynn taking it seriously, Owen and Connor not so much)

Bruce and I are taking the adult class with the older kids.  The class is very physically challenging for us older out-of-shape people.  Honestly, I think I can do the forms much better than the warm-up, which involves jumping jacks and push ups.  However, I did have a shining moment when it came time to spar.  I had to go against our oldest son, neither of us having any protective gear.  He was trying to look impressive, sending kicks toward my head and starting each move with a stance that looked like something out of a Kung Fu movie.  After the third kick toward the head, I got irritated and grabbed his leg, mid-air, and tripped his standing leg, bringing him to the ground.  Twice I ended up taking him down, and the instructor said (quite loudly, I might add,) "Dude...your mom's kicking your ASS!"  Damn straight.

Better yet was the fact that apparently the instructors all thought this was pretty funny...the next class we went to another instructor came up and said that he heard I had "kicked his ass."  Poor Jay.  I think he took it all in stride...for the most part, anyway.

We will be testing for our next belts at the end of the month.  Hopefully that will go well, and I won't find Owen trying to charm his instructor after testing.  I'm still waiting for the instructor to correct Connor at the end of class, where the class is supposed to say, "Sabum-nim, Kam-sa-ham-ni-da."  Connor says, "Sabun-nim, Feliz Navidad."

Of course, the instructors are probably more concerned about the time Owen peed on the mat in the middle of class.  Or the time Connor licked the windows while waiting for us to order gear in the office.  Or that the mother of this family of seven takes out her aggression on her children during sparring...