Two weeks…

A lot can happen in two weeks. 

A little over two weeks ago I was in rehearsals for a show called Fire on the Bayou.  My role was a supporting character, and I would only be playing her two weekends out of the five weekend run.  It’s not that this was a no-brainer, but I felt confident about the role.  I knew her lines and songs, and I also knew I had three extra weeks to solidify things before I’d be in front of an audience.

And then I got the call:  Our lead actress was sidelined with vocal cord problems.  Would I consider taking the role?  I said yes without thinking, but then reality hit.  Two weeks.  Two weeks to learn a whole new part:  multiple new scenes, new songs, new character (a 17 year old, no less), new dialect…

I might have mentioned before that I’m a perfectionist.  Not about everything, mind you.  My bathroom can be a complete disaster area and it doesn’t bother me a bit.  Dishes in the sink?  No problem.  Pile of papers?  Pshaw!!!  But when it comes to performing, I’m type A all the way.  I want it right, and I want it right YESTERDAY!!!  It’s not rational.  It’s not logical.  But it’s me.

My poor director thought he’d made a huge mistake on about day three of this little adventure.  He pulled me aside.  “Are you okay?  I’m concerned that you’re a little too stressed out.  I hope I’m not putting any undue pressure on you.”   Pressure?  What pressure?  (Nervous laugh.)  I’m fine.  Really!   

I was SO not fine.  I wanted my lines memorized and my dialect exactly right and the dances learned and the songs beautiful, and I didn’t want to wait for it to happen.  I never want to wait…patience is not my strong suit.  Because I have this fear that if it’s not right at this very moment, it’s never going to be right.  And if it’s never going to be right I’m going to be a failure.  And if I’m a failure then I’ll have failed.  And THAT is not an option. 

I took a breath.  I gave myself a lecture.  I listened to my wise husband and my wise friends who reminded me that I was only a couple of days into this challenge, and that it was going to get better.  And of course, it did get better.  It always does.  It always falls into place.  I needn’t have worried.

We opened the show this past Friday, and it’s a hit.  Our audiences seem to love it.  All the wrinkles that freaked me out two weeks ago have ironed themselves out.   The lines are memorized and come from my voice without thought.  The notes that I worked so hard to perfect now easily flow out of me.  The dialect comes naturally.  I know where to go and when to go there.  (The dancing’s still hard, but that’s just me.  The dancing’s always hard.)  It happens every time. 

Will I ever learn? 

Give me a couple of weeks.

(photo courtesy of Siggi Ragnar)

Testing 1, 2, 3

Earlier this week I uploaded the WordPress app for my iPhone, with every intention of blogging from my in-laws during the Thanksgiving holidays.

Clearly that didn’t happen. My nature wants to be guilty about it, since I had set a goal of blogging daily this month. But you know what? I’ve decided NOT to be guilty. Because while I wasn’t blogging, I WAS spending quality time with the people I love.

We cooked, ate, cooked, ate, cooked some more, and ate some more. We were gluttonous, and it was GOOD!! We played a lot of Pente, Mexican Train, and of course, Poker. We also did a fair amount of shopping in anticipation of Sweet Pea’s birthday and Christmas.

AND we saw friends. There are people in our lives who will always be encouragers, no matter the time between visits or the distance between homes. Those are the friends we saw. And in a short amount of time they lifted our spirits immensely. These friends also shared some important wisdom as we work through our decision about where Sweet Pea will attend middle school. Are you ready? Because this is a nugget that you won’t want to forget: There’s no such thing as a good middle school, because middle schoolers go there.

RIGHT??????

All in all it was a lovely week. We’re presently in the car driving back to SATX. The plan is to stop and buy a tree on the way home. Then we’ll get to decorating the tree tomorrow. (We decorated the house before we left; this is Part Two.)

PLUS I have to get myself organized, because on Wednesday morning I’m headed to the greatest city in the world!!

So, blogging on my iPhone from I-10 westbound somewhere between Flatonia and Schulenberg…

Funny Girl out!

Would you rather…

Sweet Pea has been accompanying me on my jogging trips lately.   First she ran alongside me.  The next time she wore her rollerblades.  Last night, she hopped on her bike.  I have to admit I love having her along.  She keeps my mind off my aching back, legs, sides, lungs, etc. and for some reason she feels safe to open up and have a conversation.  Perhaps it’s that she knows I can’t give a long-winded answer whilst running three miles.  (*Note:  “whilst” is my new favorite word; apparently I’m feeling very anglophillic these days.)

Last night I learned all kinds of juicy details about the social strata of the 5th grade.  We also discussed Thanksgiving, Pea’s birthday plans, Christmas…I’m telling you, we covered the works.  But about the third mile we started to run out of subjects, so I began a rousing game of “Would You Rather”.  Let’s see if we can glean any deep psychological assumptions about Sweet Pea based on her responses.

Homemade Vanilla (ice cream) or Dutch Chocolate?     Homemade vanilla; I can make it into chocolate with syrup.

Dutch Chocolate or Mint Chocolate Chip?     Mint Chocolate Chip

Mint Chocolate Chip or Cookies and Cream?     Mint Chocolate Chip

Homemade Vanilla or Mint Chocolate Chip?     Mint Chocolate Chip  (The obvious winner, and I never knew.)

Sugar cookie or Peanut Butter cookie?     Sugar

Sugar cookie or Chocolate Chip cookie?      Chocolate Chip

Cherry Pie or Apple Pie?     Neither, I don’t like pie.

Squash or Broccoli?     Broccoli

Broccoli or Sweet Potatoes?     Sweet Potatoes

Wii or new bike?     Wii

Ripstick or new bike?     Ripstick

Wii or Ripstick?     Wii     (Guess what we’re getting for Christmas?)

Ripstick or Guitar Hero?     Guitar Hero

Mexican Train or Chicken Foot?     Chicken Foot

Chicken Foot or Poker?     Poker

Blackjack or Poker?     Poker

Monopoly or Poker?     Poker

Pente or Poker?     Poker  (All this poker-love, and she’s a direct descendant from a bunch of Baptists…it’s sacrelig I tell you, sacrelig!!)

After a careful review of the data, it appears that my daughter is a chocolate chip-loving almost 11-year-old who prefers video games over exercise, likes her vegetables sweet,  and has a slightly precocious love of Texas Hold ‘Em, mostly because she’s good at it and loves to win.  In other words, she’s absolutely normal.

As Billy Crystal said in When Harry Met Sally, “I’m not ready.”

My rehearsal dinner was fun.  LOTS of fun.  Shoot, the whole wedding weekend was fun (except for that one horrible moment when my veil wouldn’t sit right on my head and I started crying and my mom used some kind of old nursing cap magic trick to pin it to my head…when I took it off later I found a folded kleenex and a bunch of bobby pins…I don’t know what she did!)  But I digress…we’re talking about the rehearsal dinner.

My dad is a minister, and he had been planning my wedding my whole life.  Little did I know, he’d been planning his rehearsal dinner speech as well.  He stood up and pulled out a stack of notes I had written to him throughout my teenage years. My dad was a single parent from the time I was 10, so we communicated in notes ALOT.   They were all hilarious…and all embarassing. 

The MOST embarassing was this:  He said that I went to camp the summer after 6th grade,  and apparently I had been talking to some of the girls, because he found a note that said something like this:

Dear Dad,

While I was at camp, I started shaving my legs.  I am very embarassed about this and I don’t want to talk about it, ever.  Please buy me a package of pink daisy razors and leave them on my bed. 

Love,

funny girl

He says he did exactly what I asked and never said a word.  A few weeks later we happened to be sitting together in church.  I was wearing a dress and I crossed my legs and thought I caught him looking at them.  I leaned over, cut my eyes over at him,  and said “they look pretty good, don’t they?”

Oh no he didn’t!

Oh yes he did. 

He told that story in front of Hubs and Hubs’ family and Hubs’ extended family and all our friends.  Thanks Dad.  Thanks a lot.

Why do I tell you this story? 

Because I think it may be time to buy the daisy razors.  God help me.

O Christmas Tree – Part Two

We held the Funny Girl Family Caucus last night and came to some important conclusions.

 First, Sweet Pea feels that the tree, the house, and the outside lights are all equally important.  In her opinion, we cannot leave anything out.  (Thanks, Pea.  Mommy appreciates your flexibility!)

Second, I really do want a tree, but I don’t have time for two straight days of setting up the tree and the house.  Thankfully, the outside decor is Hubs’ domain. 

So here’s the decision as it stands today.  Please note, this may change at any moment because I’m the mom and I’m in charge.  (Sticks out tongue.)  We will decorate the house this Saturday – this includes stockings, Christmas Village (SOME not all), Christmas books and knick-knacks, nativities, etc.  Garland for the stairwell is currently under deliberation.  Hubs will do the outside while I do the inside.  Sweet Pea will probably go between the two of us pulling stuff out but not actually helping at all.   Because this is all VERY important, but not important enough to put down the legos and help!!

Then, when we return from Houston next Saturday, we will buy the tree.  That way it can “set” until Sunday afternoon, when we will decorate it.  Hubs will do the lights, I’ll do the ornaments.  Sweet Pea will likely pull a bunch of stuff out and then get bored before she hangs a single ornament.  Good times.  We will watch Christmas Vacation whilst we decorate; that’s our tradition.  NOTHING says Christmas like Clark Griswold.  Can I refill your egg nog for you?  Get you something to eat?  Drive you out to the middle of nowhere and leave you for dead?  See what I mean?  That’s the Christmas spirit.

So that’s the plan.  I’ll be blogging it, so there will be pics, not to worry. 

Merry Merry!!!

 

O Christmas Tree

I’ve got some big decisions to make about the holidays this year.  Here’s the deal.  We are leaving on Monday to spend Thanksgiving week in Houston.  We’ll return the Saturday after Thanksgiving.  Then I leave Wednesday the 2nd for NYC.  (AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!)  I return Monday the 7th.  We are at home until Dec. 23, when we will leave for Houston again.  We won’t return to SATX until Jan. 3, and I start rehearsals for my next show on January 4.  Confused??

So I’m trying to decide whether or not to put up a tree this year.  We often travel over Christmas and have made the decision before NOT to put up a Christmas tree.  This year it seems especially reasonable to consider skipping it.  I’ll have to put it up before Thanksgiving (which is against my general principles, and I’m not even sure you can buy one this early) and by the time we return from Christmas it will be dead and my den will be covered in needles and I’ll still have to take down all the ornaments which will drop more needles…you see my point.

On the other hand, I LOVE decorating the tree.  I love the smell of the house with the fresh tree giving off its piney goodness.  I love the twinkling lights.  I love reminiscing as I carefully and lovingly hang each and every ornament in just the right spot.  There is joy in it, and I need joy.  J-O-Y, down in my heart, deep deep down in my heart!!  (Did anyone else grow up singing that song??)

So there is is.   Hubs and I are going to caucus (love you Tim Gunn!) with Sweet Pea tonight and come to a decision.  I told him if any of the three of us feel strongly about it then I will do it.  We shall see…

 

Delighted

My bloggy-friend Anymommy just saved the day.  I have been back and forth on what to write, so I decided to surf around for a little inspiration.  Should’ve known I could count on Any.  I highly recommend you go there, but don’t do it until you’ve read this, because I promise once you begin reading her phenomenal writing you’ll hardly come up for air, much less return to read my paltry entry.  Yesterday she asked a question that leads me right where I need to be.  “What do you do to show your children you are delighted in them?”

I am going to take this one step further.  Things have been a mite bit heavy at Funny Girl headquarters, so if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to tell you all the ways Sweet Pea delights me.  In spite of her challenges, she is an absolutely amazing kid.  Here’s are a few of the reasons why:

She’s funny.  REALLY funny.  I like to think she inherited that from me. 

Girlfriend can groove.  I’m serious.  She like to shaky-shaky.   (Must’ve inherited that from Hubs.)

She loves to sing.  I love to listen to her sing.  She is usually a smidge off-pitch due to her hearing loss, but it is one of the most beautiful sounds I know.

Speaking of her hearing loss, she is an almost perfect lip-reader.  Unfortunately she forgets that I am not nearly as good at it as she is, so she gets frustrated when she’s trying to talk to me in church and I don’t understand her.  Give it a try.  You’ll be impressed.

Also, she is an amazing speller.  In general, people with hearing loss have a very difficult time with reading/spelling due to its relationship with sound.  She never studies for her spelling tests and she almost always get a 100.  Spelling is important to me.  I think things should ALWAYS be spelled correctly.  So this delights my nerdy side.

Despite her social difficulties, she is unbelievably generous.  She literally tried to give a friend the shirt off her back when her friend didn’t have the right clothes to wear on the field trip to the Symphony.   Today at lunch she insisted that we buy a cookie and divide it into four parts for she and her three friends.  Love it.

 

Now, how do I delight IN her?  That’s somewhat trickier, isn’t it?  I suspect most parents of 10 year olds would agree that finding ways to encourage our children while still being “cool” is a daily challenge.  And I certainly cross the line into uncool on plenty of occasions when I’m just trying to do something nice for her. 

Case in point:  She is having a growth spurt and has outgrown her belts.  I offered to go into my closet and let her borrow one of mine.  Now let me be clear; these are cool belts.  We’re not talking dorkville.  Anyway she looked at me, cocked her head, and said “I am NOT going to wear my mother’s belt.”  I knew right then that she does not see trendy, fashionable Funny Girl.  She sees a mother.  An old woman who is neither trendy nor fashionable.  (Note:  this didn’t stop her from borrowing my silver ballet flats for church today.  Just saying.)

ANYHOO…things I do to delight in Sweet Pea:

Every morning I crawl into her bed and we snooze together.  She likes to wake up slowly (let’s face it, so do I) and I always hope those minutes of snuggling will fill her tank for the day ahead.

Each afternoon I meet her at the corner and carry her backpack home.  It is my way of literally shouldering her load.

Each evening I sit in her bed and read aloud to her.  She is an avid reader, and can read much faster alone, but she begs me to do it and I indulge her, sometimes for up to an hour. 

I try to give her little looks:  a smile, a wink, a thumbs up, the OK sign…she doesn’t want to hear me talk, but she loves knowing I approve. 

My favorite right now is the kiss on her head.  I don’t have to say anything.  Just a pause, a kiss, maybe a squeeze on her shoulder. 

 

May we all find ways to delight in each other this week.

I got nothing

Nada.

Zilch.

Zero.

Cero.

…….

I’ve been pouring it out lately, so I’m finding it harder and harder to come up with blog topics.  Would anyone like to help me out?  Ask me a question.  Give me something to talk about.  Please!! 

 

What I’ve been reading lately

I’m not gonna lie.  I am writing this one a day ahead so I can hit publish in the morning before I head out of town for a night.

So if it feels like I’m phoning it in, well, I am.  You got me.

Here’s my summer reading list.  I’m too tired to link it up to Amazon, so you’ll have to copy/paste.  Sorry.  I said I was phoning it in.

The Guernsay Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society – best book I read all summer.  It is the post WWII tale of a writer who discovers the incredible story of the residents of the British island of Guernsay during the occupation.  Get it.  Read it.  Now.

The End of the Affair – another post WWII story, this one of the affair between a man and woman and the effect it has on both of them spiritually.  It was somewhat tedious, but I liked it.

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle – translated into English from Japanese; a 1980’s-era story of a man who is unemployed and the strange characters he encounters day to day.  This book was too…ethereal? for me.  It is described as “dream-like” but that translated into disconnected and unrealistic to me.  There was value in some of the lessons he learns, but I couldn’t make it to the end.

Gap Creek – pioneer-era story of a girl’s journey to womanhood through various trials during the early years of her marriage. Loved it.

That’s it for my summer.  The list seems short, doesn’t it?  Ah well, I’ve had a few other things on my plate.  I am currently reading The Group.  This book was given a cameo on Mad Men recently, so I knew I had to run right out and get it.  It was written in 1963 about a group of Vassar grads making their way in the world during the Great Depression.  I’m about halfway through and I’m really enjoying it.  It’s surprisingly provacative when one considers the publishing date.  I’ll be sure to give a full report when I’m finished.

Sweet Pea and I are making our way through the Nancy Drew series.  I think we’ve read 6 or 7 so far.  I’m going to write an entire blog about the world according to Nancy Drew but in the meantime suffice it to say things have changed since those innocent days of sleuthing in River Heights.

Happy Reading!!

Please understand that she is not herself

One of God’s greatest gifts to me in this journey is the friends He has given me who understand my trials with Sweet Pea.  I have three close friends who have children with issues similar to Sweet Pea’s.  So similar, in fact, we often comment that these girls could all be sisters.

Of these three phenomenal ladies, one is a recent reconnection.   We haven’t seen each other since high school, but she found me on facebook, started reading my blog, and quickly contacted me about the incredible resemblances in our daughters.   We have become cheerleaders for each other, pushing ourselves through the tedious afternoons and difficult nights.  Sometimes we offer wisdom, and other times we just recommend the perfect cocktail, but at all times she gives me strength, and I hope I do the same for her.

One of the things she and I talk about the most is the judgment we perceive from those around us.  The looks at school, the store, the gym, the neighborhood.  Mental illness is an “invisible disability”.  You would never look at a picture of our beautiful children and suspect there was a problem.  But the sad truth is these children are sick.  Their brains don’t work like everyone else’s; the chemicals are imbalanced, the neurons misfire and all hell breaks loose. 

Another of these amazing ladies recently gave me a selection to read from a Miss Manners book she had borrowed from the library entitled Miss Manners’ Basic Training:  The Right Thing To Say.  (Don’t be scared – this isn’t one of those “your kid needs manners” stories.)  The section was from the chapter entitled Covering for Others.   The author’s intent is to address issues with an elderly person who has dementia, Alzheimer’s, etc., but my friend suggested it applied to our children as well.  I am going to quote directly because I think it’s the most effective (and also I’m too tired to paraphrase):

Anyone close to a person with such a problem is going to spend a lot of time apologizing…The key phrases are “She doesn’t really mean it,” “Please understand that she is not herself,”…”It’s not that you did anything – it’s just the way she is now.” 

The apologies made to oneself (the caretaker)  – “I know she doesn’t mean it”…”It’s not really her speaking” – are the hardest to accept.

Even as the mother of a child with an invisible disability it can be hard for me to remember that this isn’t her fault.  She isn’t doing it on purpose.  If she could be “normal”, she would.  I know she would rather be calm and happy than fractured and raging.  It’s easy to blame her though.  It’s so easy to say “if she would just…” and then fill in the blank with all the million simple things she could do to change her situation.  But that’s the point, isn’t it?  She can’t change it because her brain doesn’t always function like it should.   It’s more than just ADHD. 

My child has mental illness.

Please understand that she is not herself.