Prior to the new gym's opening, I would bug my coach about kids' classes. My boy was at that time seven years old and his interest was peaked, seeing dad disappear at night and reappear the next morning, stronger with new bruises, but carrying less and less weight each time. I was anxious to instill him with not only some self-defense skills to help navigate adolescence, but also the confidence that I had regained - a perspective and self worth that I had lost along the way. To my delight, Coach unveiled a kids program running five days a week when the new space opened. I bought my kid a gi and got him enrolled.
Needless to say, it's been a work in progress for all involved. The program started with three or four kids, steadily growing into a robust class of 20-25 in each session. Coach had to develop a vocabulary that communicated the complexities of take-downs, positioning, escapes and sweeps in a way our youngest students could digest and retain. It's been almost a year since this program started and these junior samurai are inspiring to watch, dominating at local tournaments. More impressive is the way they relate to each other. When new students join up, the other students eagerly partner with them and ease up when they roll to allow the new students to work what little they know (it's a maturity I didn't expect of elementary-aged students).
My son was very much a fish out of water. Fumbling about instead of focusing on his drilling, tearing up and whining every time he was taken down. But man, he's grown so much. I've watched him acquire an amazing physical vocabulary, remembering all the Japanese names for judo throws, and his guard game is strong, impressing me with his sweeps and back takes.
My daughter, who is four, has been chomping at the bit. Accompanying the boys on many a gym session, she's begged us to train for a long while. Coach made her day a few weeks ago when he relented. You should have seen her excitement when she received her first gi. It was like she received a pony for Christmas. She's still drowning in the deep end and her attention lasts all of twenty minutes, but the journey begins somewhere.
All of this is incredibly rewarding, being able to share a life-giving passion with them. But damn, there are some nights where I really feel like I fucked up by inviting them onto my mats. Jiu jitsu class was like the man cave I never had (I live in a small townhome; the bathroom is my only sanctuary and even then...). The nights I stole away to roll with my teammates was my escape from everything - not necessarily my family, but from everything else - the day's work, the commute, the pressures of caring for your aging parents, the bills that you're putting off until the 1st of the month, the shitty attitude that colleague gave you during that meeting. We all know it. For that hour and a half where you're engaged in jiu jitsu, you shrug all that dirt off your shoulders and focus on what's immediately in front of you.
But nowadays, since my kids are at the gym, I'll be defending a rear naked choke from an overeager white belt when my girl's feet appear in front of my face and I hear her tell me that she has to go potty. Or Coach will be teaching us a not-so-easy modification to a very-much-not-so-easy berimbolo and my focus will be interrupted by a high-pitched scream from just off the mats and it's my son allowing himself to get pummeled by another kid half his age. After class, I'll discover toilet paper unrolled across the bathroom floor, uncapped water bottles on their side - spilling their contents throughout the changing room and on one particular night, my phone taken from my gym bag and hidden underneath the fridge. On a regular basis, my drills and rolls are interrupted by occurrences like these, followed by arguments, admonishments and promises (that will inevitably be broken). It's great that my son's ground game has grown, but mine has undoubtedly suffered. It's hard to get better at tearing your opponent's head off when you're worried about the destruction your kids are doing to your gym. It's all of this that makes me Hulk-rage and wondering why the fuck I ever thought it wise to bring them into the fold. What drugs had I taken to make me think that bringing kids into my private club was a good idea?! Self-worth, confidence? Jesus. Sign them up for chess, piano, soccer, robotics camp. I don't give a shit. Just keep them off the mats so Daddy can get his fucking roll on without being interrupted to wipe your butt.
But we all know that those feelings are fleeting. I know that if I took them out, they'd suffer. And truth be told, so would I. The rewards far outweigh these growing pains. The ability to experience success as a child prepares you to achieve success as an adult. And the knowledge that your kids will be equipped with skills and confidence that can stand up to the threats and pressures that await them in the years to come is comforting. Those interruptions, those annoyances -- they might add a few more years to my journey towards black belt, but I am pretty confident they will also add a depth and richness to these years that will not only improve my game as a jiujiteiro, but also as a dad.
So we're in it for the long haul, kiddos. Just stay off the mats when I'm training or you'll be my next round and it won't be for points!
