I have a very busy one. Tonight I am helping my 14 year old get ready for formal, then meet up with her friends at the park for pictures and fun. Tomorrow I have the NTYDTTRD and Sunday we have appointment with our lawyer and dinner with friends. My husband is taking taking our daughter on a kayaking trip as well. Lots of fun, but I will be busy, busy, busy. I will catch up with you all on Monday. Have a safe and fun time!!!

I met Lynne several months ago.  I started following her blog about the same time she started following mine.  We share a passion for women, firearms, and helping, so our friendship was bound to grow.

One day Lynne posted a status update that said “Hey what do you all think of a National Take Your Daughter To The Range Day?”  Everyone liked it and there was much chitchat about how cool it would be.  A week or so later she had a website and some basic info on the idea.  A week later a donate button was installed which I have hit several times.  Next thing I know her little  FaceBook idea exploded into a national phenomenon.  Pure joy to watch her shine.

Tomorrow I have the honor and privilege to work the event taking place at the NRA Headquarters Range in Fairfax, Virginia.   I am so excited to be a part of this day!!!

If you are going to be there be sure to say hi and if not hopefully many of you will be participating at ranges near you!!

I have been out all day with my daughter shopping for her upcoming formal.  We went to Starbucks this morning then to a mall in a bigger city.  We laughed and joked and found the most beautiful dress for her, on sale thank you very much.  Then we went to lunch where I got to sit and listen to tell me about school, testing, her friends, the boy she likes and her nerves about entering high school next year.  I have never enjoyed not talking in all my life. 

I haven’t had a chance to visit the blog world, but I have had a chance to glance at the emails that have come in letting me know that there is much buzz a foot about AGirl and her training.  Crazy cool.

I am soon off to swim team and therefore probably won’t get a chance to visit my favorite bloggers until much later, but I did pop on over to In Jennifer’s Head.  If you are curious about how I feel read the comments.

I love, love, love the love, and I promise you with ever fiber of being the not-so-much-love doesn’t bother me in the least.  If you left a comment of encouragement, if you emailed, called or texted me…THANK YOU!

I have been meaning to post this for a week or so, but I have been side tracked by other issues.  I think everything Bill posts is right on.  I learn a lot from him.  Take a look.

I think mindset is critically important, but I think doing is what makes the biggest impact.  As I have said before sitting around and writing all my issues on this blog is cathartic and makes me feel better, but it does nothing to help me heal.  I have to make changes and I have to do.  If I want to be safer I have to do more than read gun blogs and self defense books, I have to show up at the range and the gym.

I have received 2 kinds of emails since I got hurt in training…”I am so worried about you getting hurt, please stop” and “Thank you so much. After I was attacked I took the same kind for training and it helped, thank you, thank you, for sharing.”  The last group doesn’t need me to explain more, but the first group still needs a little more information.  I want to be clear…while I care about people, I don’t care if they like or agree with my choices. I clearly reach a lot of people through this blog and helping others is very important to me, so if I can be more specific about why I do something to help others understand then I am happy to do it.

I know a guy who took a force on force training course.  No pads.  It was man on man, 2 on 1, 3 on 1, etc.  They were fighting from inside a car and in any number of odd positions.  He has a scar on his head from bashing against another person so many times and he still limps, 2 months later from a leg injury he though he was going to need surgery for.  I asked him if any women were in the class.  He said no.  He said the man teaching the course told him woman rarely sign up.  He also said generally many of the men signed up drop out after day one because they can’t handle the intensity of the hard core training.   He tells that story again and again and not one person has suggested he is crazy.   I know 2 guys that skipped their boxing class because the week before the training was so intense they hadn’t healed yet and were not ready to get back in the ring.  No one thought they were nuts for taking a week off or for returning 2 weeks later. When I was having a hard time with the idea of hitting another human being, I got comment after comment from guys who did similar training and said if they hesitated like I did, their instructor would have just hit them.  I know a lady who’s instructor hits her in the face, no pads.  I know a kid, 19, who trains with a martial arts guy that hits him with boards in the arms and stomach again and again…no pads.  It’s a “hardening” process that helps condition the body to both get used to the pain and increase tolerance for it.  You should see his bruises.

I think it is vitally important for people to train the way they fight and if I ever find myself on the ground again, I want to know how to fight my way out.  Statistic say the chances of me getting attacked again are pretty slim. The way I train I probably will never be selected a second time, but the numbers also say that most crime happens at night and in seclude areas, but mine happened in broad day light in the middle of a parking lot. I don’t rely on numbers much.  I need to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am prepared to handle any situation that might confront me.  I have to know that I can win.  I have to do what I feel I need to do, so that while I live my normal life I am not scared and tense, but confident and relaxed.  I need to know that while I am out shopping with my daughter for her formal dress, I can keep her safe.  I need to rely on myself.  Not a single other person was in that parking lot that day to keep me from being attacked.  No cop, no husband, no trainer, no friend, no gun blogger, just me, my daughter and the bad guy. You already know how that ended. 

Probably not everyone needs to get their mind used to the idea of violence.  Probably not everyone needs to face some in order to deprogram their minds, but I do.  Of course after reading Colonial Grossman’s book, there might be a few more out there like me than first thought. I can watch videos and I can read stories and I can listen to others share their experiences, but until I face it for myself, I won’t know and it is massively important that inside my own being, I know.  I have to know because on the day I needed it, no one else will be there to tell me and no one else will have to live with the aftermath.

A few months ago, I never would have got involved.  At the end the author says, “It’s time to be that person.”  I have no idea if he was only talking to the men, but what if I am the only one there?  What if there isn’t a big man or two to help her.  What if it is just me?  I know for sure before I started training that I would have been too paralyzed by fear and of getting hurt to help.  Avoiding pain and death would have kept me from even trying.  I also know for sure that regardless of the odds, there is no way I will stand by and watch another woman being victimized and not help, regardless of the risk.  The more trained I am the better prepared I will be if ever I need to defend myself or help another. The more training, the better the training, the more intense and diverse the training, the more I believe I will be able to do whatever I need to do.    That’s the point of MY training.

We lived in California during the last big housing boom.  Everyone was buying bigger homes and building custom everything.  One of the crazes at the time was making everything in the kitchen blend in, so the designers would cover up the dishwasher, stove, refrigerator with panels that matched the cupboards.  That’s fine.  Nothing wrong with that except when I went to a friend’s house and she would say help yourself to whatever is in the fridge, I couldn’t. I would spend an hour wondering around trying to find the blasted thing.  I like pretty, but when the function loses out to aesthetics, I kind of don’t get it.  I could see if for some reason you had to put your stove or icebox in your bathroom; perhaps you might want to hide them.  Those things do not belong in a bathroom, but one does expect to find things for keeping and cooking food in a kitchen, so I say lets just let them all hang out right there in the open.

What does that little rant have to do with guns you might ask…

Since I promised my family I would sit around yesterday and rest, I had the time to read every comment on my post Should Have Listened To My husband(which was suppose to be a joke title) and also respond immediately to every email.

I got lots of “Are you crazy?”  “What were you thinking?”  emails.

I fully understand the concern and I even though I was trying to be funny and express that I was both happy and proud of myself, I can see how people who have grown to care about me would want to protect me and be sure that I wasn’t out there being reckless or careless.

My first reaction to all the comments was, crap, I hope Arete isn’t reading my blog today and I hope he doesn’t decided back off. In hindsight that was kind of a stupid thing because I don’t think he lets other people think for him all that often nor do I believe he bows to pressure, but still I worry, so I asked him…

“You are still gonna hit me right???”  His response was, “Why would I stop?”  Now, I admit that is an odd conversation and not one I thought I would ever have, but the answer made me smile.

I was having a difficult time explaining myself yesterday and since we all know I am a thinker and I have to understand everything, I started thinking. Again, probably not the best thing to do yesterday because I was tired, I actually was in a lot of pain and I don’t think the narcotics were completely out of my system, which is why the rest of my text conversation with Arete isn’t appearing on the blog.  It was a little odd.  I had a hard time understanding what he meant and I got confused and frustrated. He would say something and I would answer and he would type, “not where I was going with that”. I thought, Huh, where else were you going?  My thinking wasn’t super clear.  I couldn’t articulate myself very well to him or to any of you.  After my husband made me some Maple Bacon popcorn(nobody tell Maura)

I gave up and went to bed.

This morning I woke up still in pain, but with a clearer head.  I popped on over The Sheepdog Tip Of The Day  I read this…

One of your primary goals as a warrior is to train and mentally condition yourself to keep going when you have been shot. You must understand and accept that you might get wounded, and understand deeply and intensely that you will keep fighting until the threat is no longer present. You can do it and you must do it. You must control and direct the power of your adrenaline.Lt. Col. Dave Grossman, On Combat

Yes, that is what I am trying to say.  I am not being reckless and I am not trying to hurt myself, but I think that there is huge value in my getting hurt.  I am not getting hurt on purpose.  I don’t do stupid things.  I am not out late at night standing on the street corner looking for a fight(although I did make a joke about this once to Arete, he advised against it).  I train safely and with a purpose, but I also try to have fun and take risks. Sometimes things happen and I get hurt, but even in those rare times there is a lesson, there is a benefit.  I kept going.  Anybody remember a time when I totally gave up?

I said I wasn’t trying to prove anything and on that day during that exchange I wasn’t.  I was feeling very proud of myself and I was relaxed and when I am in a mood like that I am goofy.  I was being goofy and so was he.  I did not think I need to kick his butt or think I can take him down.  I didn’t think anything, I was simply messing around.  After, when I started to feel pain, I also wasn’t trying to prove anything, by not going to the doctor.  I did not think there was a serious issue and it was important to me that I showed up to work.  On Saturday I had already agreed that on Monday I would go see my physician.  I was not trying to prove I was tough(which I think I proved I am:), but in general I am trying to prove something.  I am trying prove to myself that I can face things that scare me, face things that are hard. I am trying to test my mind and my body and the only way to do that, is to do that. The only way for me to know if I can take a punch is to get punched.  I mean that literally and metaphorically.

I was not and am not the slightest bit annoyed or upset that people were concerned or that people suggested I use pads or take it easy.  Those words show people care and I am always up for that.  Plus, I have been fragile both physically and mentally, so it is natural to think I might not quite be ready for broken ribs or perhaps that I am pushing too far too fast.  I understand that and I am lucky to have so many who take the time to offer me their wisdom, encouragement and warnings.  I am thankful for those words because I can look at what is said by people I trust and analyze it.  “Does he/she have a point?”  “Why am I doing that?”  “Was that insane?” “Did it serve my goal?”  What a gift you all give me.  I cherish you all and I relish in the opportunity to grow.   I appreciate you so much!

Having said that…once I am healed, I intend to keep training as hard and without pads:)

After my training session with Arete on Thursday, I started to feel not so great, but I have a high tolerance for pain and like most people I am not all that fond of going to the doctor, so even though my husband(and others) continued to press, I didn’t go.

Saturday morning I felt sore, but not awful, so I figured I was on the mend and all was well.  By noon on Saturday I knew that was not the case.  I was in a lot of pain and while the Mortrin was helping, it was not helping enough.  Sunday was brutal, but I am not a complainer and plus I had work to do. Sunday night I was a mess and my husband said, you really need to go to the doctor.  I agreed. 

Yesterday he had a regular appointment at our doctor, so while there he tried to make me an appointment, but they were booked solid and couldn’t see me for a few days.  No problem.  I thought, well if they are not concerned I shouldn’t be and maybe I don’t need to go. My husband disagreed with my assessment.

Around 1ish, I started to get sick to my stomach from the pain, so I tried to eat a few crackers, but they did not sit well causing me to throw up.  By the time I stopped throwing up the pain was unbearable and I decided a trip to the doctor was needed.  My husband called the doctor again to see if someone cancelled and if they could squeeze me in, but they couldn’t and suggested I to go to the ER.

For the first time ever the ER actually sounded good.  I drove myself which sucked.  I walked in and the woman at the counter said are you in pain?  I said yes.  She had me fill out a piece of paper that only asked for my name and why I was there.  That was it.  She had me sit down and tell her what happened and to rate the pain from 1-10.  10 being the worst.  I told her if I sat perfectly still an 8, but if I moved or coughed, 11. She took me straight back to a room. 

A physicians assistant came in and asked me what happened.  I said I was training and got hurt.  What kind of training he asked.  I told him self defense training.  He wanted to know the name of the type of training I do.  There is no name for what I do, so I just said I am training with an MMA guy.  His eyes got huge and he said “You fight MMA?”.  I started to laugh, but it hurt too much. I said no.  I am just training to learn how to defend myself.  The hospital has NO WEAPON signs everyone, so I was trying to be careful about what I said.  Anyway, he said tell me exactly what happened. I did. He winced and said, “Good grief, lets get you looked at.”

Every single person who came in was so crazy nice and each one of them asked me why I was there.  The nurse that came in to help me get into a gown asked why I was there.  I told her and she said, I do self defense training too.  Apparently our rec center offers several 6 week courses.  She is on her 2nd 6 week session.  We compared bruises.  She saw my wrists and said, are you learning what to do if someone grabs your gun?  It was pretty cool. I wanted to tell her about my blog, but because of the name of my blog, I opted not to.

The doctor came in and explained that the biggest concern was to check out my vital organs and look for blood clots. He was very worried about a partially collapsed lung because I was having a very hard time breathing.  He ordered blood work, an x-ray and a CT scan.  I had never had a CT scan before, so that was odd.  When the tech put the meds in my IV he said you will feel like you have to pee, but I promise you won’t, so don’t freak out.  I was thinking who freaks out if their bladder feels full.  Then he put the iodine(I think ) in and I was like, “Oh, that is not my bladder that feels like it has to pee.”  Strange feeling.

I was in a lot of pain and the doctor didn’t really explain everything super well.  He came in and said your insides are a mess.  You have a lot of swelling, torn cartilage, bruising probably everywhere and some fractured ribs  My 7th rib has 2 hairline fractures.  Most everything in on the left side.  He never did show me the xray itself or whatever comes from a CT scan, but he didn’t seem concerned about the injuries themselves.  He was more concerned about getting me pain medication and impressing upon me the importance of not waiting to be seen for this kind of trauma. He told me he was not happy about me waiting 4 days to come in.  Not because of the ribs or even the sternum, but because I could have damaged my spleen or my lungs.  I could have had a blood clot. He told me I was tough, I had proved that and he wouldn’t mess with me, but that next time I get injured, he would like to see me right a way.  I promised him I would come in immediately next time. 

I think I look super cute.

For the record I wasn’t trying to prove anything. First, I honestly did not believe I was hurt.  I did hear cracking for sure, but I thought it was my back cracking like when I crack my knuckles, not something really cracking.  After it happened, I did feel fine.  Until later Thursday evening, I didn’t even feel tenderness. Must have been the adrenaline or something.

I also was afraid that if I had something more serious Arete would be all coddling and not train me as hard and that is NOT what I want. 

Lastly, I had to work and I take pride in doing a good job.  I don’t like to be late, ever. I don’t like to take sick days, I don’t like to make excuses.  It is a personal pride issue.  I had the same standard for myself when I did volunteer work for the Navy- Marine Corps Relief Society.   But with this job there is more than personal pride involved. I want to help John. I want to contribute in a way that aids him.  I want to do the work that frees him up to focus on teaching and the students. He can’t do that if I am sitting on my butt watching him put up the awnings.   If he asks me to do something,  I do it.  I almost never know how to do what he is asking me, but I figure it out and I do it.  I will admit that on Saturday when I was trying to put up the awnings, I wished Ryan was there to show me how, but I was able figured it out.  The problem was that they are large and heavy and I had to put my hands over my head a lot and that caused me to be in a great deal of pain, so I did ask John to pick up the generators for me. I knew I couldn’t handle the pain of that.  Up until the doctor told me I was pretty significantly hurt, I felt awful about not putting the generators away myself, which is ridiculous because John didn’t care, I am sure.

Back to the ER visit. The doctor asked me if I was ready for  some meds to manage the pain now.  I said yes please.  I never say yes, but it hurt, bad.  I assumed Tylenol or Motrin, but the nurse had 2 syringes with her.  She said how are you getting home, but before I could answer she said I am giving you Toradol and Morphine. Her point was that I was not to drive.  I have never had Morphine before.  When she put it in the IV, I got the strangest feeling.  I can’t explain it, but as it went into my veins, I felt an odd sensation.  I also got a prescription for Vicodin to manage the pain for the next several weeks.  Don’t think I have ever had that either.  Finally, they were done with me and said I could go home as soon as my son arrived.

The nurse came in to give me my restriction and my discharge papers…

How many discharge papers do you think say NO fighting on them?? 

A month ago I was contacted by woman from White Dog Holsters and she asked if she could donate a holster to me for a future Give-A-Way.  I had, of course, heard of her company and knew their reputation to be excellent, so I said, yes, yes, yes and thank you!!!  I have had the pleasure of getting to know her on a more personal level and I just love her.  She is an amazing lady.

About 2 days after I got the email from White Dog Holsters I received an email from a very nice man, Cambert Allan Carter,  asking if he could donate money to me that I would then use to help a woman or two get some training.  We have also chatted back and forth several times and to say I have a fondness for this man would be a HUGE understatement. 

He sent me xx amount of dollars and said that I could do whatever I wanted with it, but he hoped that I would use some of it for my own training.  My first inclination was to say no because I am not very gracious at receiving, but it is something that I am trying to get better at, so I told him I was honored and that I would accept his gift, but upon further reflection I have decided to use his full amount plus some of my own money towards helping other women get training and here is why.

I am extremely fortunate to have access to the kind of training I get.  I have attended more trainings in one year than some people attend in 5 years.  I have one on one training from 2 of the best trainers in the country.  I can ask questions of them anytime, I can get advice(sometimes even when I don’t like it or want it), I work with one or both of them on an almost weekly basis.  I have been to 5 training courses this year and I have only paid for 2. Daily, I get emails from people telling me how cost prohibitive training is for them.  How they wish they could afford the kind of training I do and how they wish they could find the quality of instruction I have. Training is expensive and while I believe it is worth every penny, I understand the realities of life and budgeting, heck, I can’t even afford the kind of training I get. Therefore, I can not in good conscience take money from someone who needs it and plus I really do think it’s better to give than receive.

Here it goes…

First Place-
-$200 toward firearms training
-An OWB Holster from White Dog Holsters
-100 rounds of ammo in .380, 9mm, 40 cal or 45 ACP
-The Cornered Cat: A Woman’s Guide To Concealed Carry
-$25 Gift Certificate To MidwayUSA donated by Keads
-Glow Shot Reactive Target Multi-Color Targets donated by Mazie(Previous Give a Way Winner)
-Do-All “The Dancing Ball” Target donated by Mazie(Previous Give-A-Way Winner)
-For the beginner in shotgun or the more advanced shooter, we have the right challenge. I would give away a 4 hr. shotgun class, a $550.00 value. The ability and interest of the winner would determine what we cover. We then will set up a class for them, tailored to suit their specific needs. Donated by Sopris Shooters(this is a separate gift and NOT part of the $250 to be spent on a defensive shooting course)

Second Place-
-$200 toward firearms training
-100 rounds of ammo in .380, 9mm, 40 cal or 45 ACP
-The Cornered Cat: A Woman’s Guide To Concealed Carry
-$25 Gift Certificate To MidwayUSA donated by Keads

-Glow Shot Reactive Target Multi-Color Targets donated by Maize(Previous Contest Winner)

*If one or both of the winners live in or near Virginia: A shopping trip(for expert advice on firearms or gear) to a local gun shop OR one hour of private instruction donated by Lynne.

All entries must send an email to [email protected] You MUST include your full name and email address.  Entries missing information will not be entered. All personal information will be kept private and confidential.  Each entry will receive a number and that number is all that will appear on the blog when the winner is announced.

**If you have entered a previous Give-A-Way, you may enter again. If you have won one, you may not:)

**This Give-A-Way is open to all levels of training not just a basic course.

Last night I got home from work and my husband says to me, you would have been very proud of your daughter today. Now, this really isn’t all that hard a task to accomplish, my daughter makes it pretty easy for me to be proud of her everyday, but I am curious, so ask M, what’s up. As a reminder M is my 14 who is not fond of shooting or discussing self defense and she does not like me fighting with Arete at all. Her conditioning by me has been one of my biggest regrets and greatest concerns. So, M tells me her story… Mom, dad needed to take A to her friend’s birthday party up the street, so I stayed home with E & H. Doors locked, alarm set all is fine, but then there is a knock on the door. I took a look and at first I thought it was a delivery man, so no big deal(she knows not to open the door for any reason. Our younger children are not even allowed to open the door for me or my husband. The rules in our house is no one answers the door except for an adult unless you have asked first. None of our children including our 6 year has broke this rule)time passes and she said for some reason she decided to check and see if he was still there. Mom, I have been home before when someone knocked and no big deal, but something just didn’t feel right, so I went to take a look. He wasnt really doing anything wrong, but the way he was looking around at the windows made me uncomfortable. I looked at him and realized he wasn’t a delivery man. His uniform was more like a landscaper, but something about his clothes didn’t fit. I got E & H and put them in the same room. Mom, they didn’t even question me. When I gave them the command(we have practiced this) they went without a peep. Then I called dad. She said eventually, the guy went away and my husband came home, checked everything out. I told her great job, perfect, but I have a question. I told her I was just curious and there was no wrong answer, but before I could get the question out, she said, “Yes, mom, I went to the gun.” If you thought my smile was big when I shot the Garand… Even though she has fought me every step of the way, I have insisted on her shooting, practicing different scenarios and talking things through with me. When we do these things it goes like this, “Hey, M, let’s practice what would happen if someone comes to the door.” “Ugh, mom, I really don’t want to.” “Yeah, I know, but it’s important so just give me 5 minutes. I say it like I am asking, but I am not. She knows we are having this conversation. We run through the steps. When I think we are good, I tell her I love her, she rolls her eyes, hugs me, and says something like, you’re so weird. 100% of the time I walk away from those encounters wondering if I am making a difference. If I am getting through to her. I wonder if I should be more forceful and push her a little harder. Who knows. I don’t have all the answers. It certainty has been a struggle, but when she found herself in one of “those” situations, she did everything right. She trusted her gut, she stayed calm, she followed the plan, she was perfect. My husband was right(he usually is). I was and am mighty, mighty proud of her! ***We have lots of security layers built in to her being home “alone” as in she really isn’t. I am obviously not going to go into what I mean specifically on the Internet, but the point is, she thought she was and she did the right things.

The other day a woman left a comment on my blog post about how she had written a post about her childhood and the abuses she suffered on her blog.  I immediately headed over to her blog and we have exchanged a few emails.

 I am amazed at how similar we are in terms of how we have dealt with the abuse.  I thought I was the only one who didn’t talk, who didn’t cry, who was happy all the time.  Actually, I never thought that, I didn’t think anything because I didn’t know I was coping, I just was. While I have not gotten into the specific of my abuse, she goes into graphic detail about what happened to her and she is asking for support.  I think she is so very, very brave. Except for my husband I have never talked about my childhood.  I have shared a little with friends here and there, but nothing much beyond it was abusive.  Maybe an alcoholic joke here or there. You all know how long it took me to tell you the whole story about that day in March.  Through her and others,  I am learning that I am not so unique.  That children who are severely abused hide things about emotions and feelings.  They get good at putting on a happy face and stuffing the pain so deep it can’t be felt.  That is probably why I was able to hide the truth about my attack for so long.  If E hadn’t decided at dinner to tell the whole story I might still be living that lie(The lie of the attack not my childhood.  My childhood does not haunt me).  Thank God I am not.  Thank God I saw her face and the pain and said, nope, no more, it’s time to face what happened and deal.  It may have seemed like a long painful process, but it hasn’t been that long.  There is healing in sharing and in support.

Her story is not an easy one to read.  Much like Garand Girl, her story is a hard pill to swallow, but I ask that you go anyway and that you offer her support and compassion.