Memories

I remembered something today that I haven't thought about in eons. I'm working on a short story. In the story, the narrator sees a friend from college that she hasn't seen in several years. He was someone she always had a thing for but never had the guts to tell him. It wasn't until I was re-reading the story this morning that I remembered my college crush.

So here's the story. The crush sort of started when I was a junior and he was a senior in high school. He was on the soccer team and I was a pom pom girl. (Ok, MIM, you can stop laughing now.) We would dance during the half-time of soccer games so we'd watch the first half and talk about the boys on the team. I thought he was cute but I never hung out with him and we didn't have any friends in common so I never actually met him until much later.

Fast forward to senior year and our so-called Penguins water ballet show. Yes, my high school had a water ballet club and yes, I was in it. No, I wasn't a total geek. Anyway, after the show, I saw him in the lobby talking with some of his friends. College boys! My girlfriends and I huddled together and giggled. I just remember seeing him and thinking damn, he's really cute.

The next year I went to the college where he was a sophomore and ended up in the same dorm. The first day I was there, he came to my room to say hello. He knew we were from the same high school and figured I might want to see a familiar face. It was then that the crush was official. Not only was he cute, he was thoughtful and friendly. In the next couple of days, he introduced me to his group of friends. They became my friends and although they were decidedly anti-"Greek", they still let me hang out with them after I joined a sorority. The group of us went through a lot together, including the death of a friend as a result of a stupid, beer-fueled stunt after a football game.

Through it all I carried a torch for my crush. All of our friends knew. I imagine that he knew, too although we never, ever talked about it. He just wasn't attracted to me, it's that simple. I wasn't his type and I had that figured out before the end of my freshman year. And yet the crush continued.

Now I realize that my crush on him kept me from developing feelings for anyone else during college. It protected me from taking the risks that come with seeking a deeper relationship. I knew all along that he and I would never be anything more than friends and, deep down, I probably liked it that way. I could live with the pain that caused me. It was the fear of really getting my heart broken that I couldn't deal with.

College ended and we didn't keep in touch. I don't remember thinking about him much at all after that. Other than our mutual college friends and growing up in the same town, we didn't have much in common. Our relationship, such as it was, had run its course. It's a weird feeling, being taken back so many years. I was a different person then and it's hard to put myself in the shoes of that person again. I know this, the current me wouldn't be interested in him - cerebral and quiet, lacking in passion. Rather boring, now that I think about it. But, as a friend, I think he was a comforting, stable presence in a time of emotional turmoil and growth.

It wasn't until I was ready to take the necessary risks that I met my husband who, in addition to being a comforting, stable presence, is also a passionate and enthusiastic person who loves me fiercely. My love for him often leaves me breathless and dizzy, something I never felt around my crush or any of the few "real" boyfriends I had over the years.

When I realized that I was in love with my husband, Elton John's song The One was playing on the radio. (Had I thought about this earlier in the week, this might have been my B4B entry!). This is the part of the song that hit me one night soon after we started dating.

In the instant that you love someone
In the second that the hammer hits
Reality runs up your spine
And the pieces finally fit
And all I ever needed was the one
Like freedom fields where wild horses run
When stars collide like you and I
No shadows block the sun
You're all I've ever needed
Baby you're the one

The day I met him, the first time he touched me - just an innocent pat on the back - I felt as if I knew him. As if the pieces finally fit. And I knew that he was the one. Given that we are both possessed of passionate natures, the part about stars colliding fits, too. It's a powerful love that we share. I'm glad my college crush didn't work out. It helped shape me into the person I am today, the person my husband loves. And for that, I'm wildly happy.

An unexpected lesson

M-Girl and I started Tae Kwon Do yesterday in a "family" class for all ages. Not only was it a good workout but we both learned some things. The instructor taught M-Girl how to back kick. He taught me that my name in the class is Jessica, not M-Girl's mom. It was a very gentle way to reprimand me for correcting her. I guess I'm more of a stage mom than I realized.

Thursday Thirteen

Ok - I know Thursday is almost over but I'll try to get a quick 13 things in anyway.

1. I haven't paid the ticket yet from the time my car got towed. It's sitting on my desk pissing me off. I need to pay that thing and get it out of my life.

2. I'm counting forwards this week, which is good. I guess.

3. After writing my Blogging for Books post, I'm even more into my music than I was before! When I went to pick up M-Girl from her playdate, I was blasting Can you take me higher by Creed and singing REALLY LOUD. And then there was I'm not your stepping stone by somebody else which is great, too. I was really bummed because I only caught the end of Time for me to fly by REO Speedwagon - talk about a high school anthem!

4. Since 3 was really long, this one needs to be short. Why? Because I said so.

5. Have I mentioned that I loved kickboxing? I did. But two nights later my muscles are still sore which kinda sucks but it does mean that every time I move my arms, I think about how much fun I had in that class.

6. Which reminds me - I need to go buy boxing gloves!

7. I'm taking M-Girl to Tae Kwon Do on Saturday. Well, actually, I'm going and I'm bringing her with me. It's a family class. I hope she likes it. Maybe when Big D and A-Girl get back we can all go together. You know the saying, "the family that Tae Kwon Do's together . . ." whatever.

8. Why is it so hard to think of 13 remotely interesting, funny or strange things to talk about when normally I can't shut up?

9. I love having my nails polished but I hate the fact that it chips off almost immediately and I always have to touch it up. I wish that they made polish that would never chip and when you wanted to take it off or change colors, all you'd have to do is wiggle your nose and blink like Samantha on Bewitched.

10. In fact, I think magic powers would be really nice. Like I'd love to clean up the clutter in my house but I'm just too busy blogging, thank you very much. But if I had magic powers . . . *nose wiggle* *blink* and it's done! Sigh. Oh, wait - I just realized that I'm combining Samantha and Jeannie from I Dream of Jeannie. Even better - double magic powers! And blond hair! Cool.

11. Can you tell I like taking the easy way out when possible?

12. Like now, I could use what little energy I have left tonight thinking of something truly inspiring to say right now. But I won't because I'm just that lazy tonight.

13. Wow, I'm done. Yippeee! Now, I don't want you to think that I don't like Thursday Thirteen. I do. I'm just in a lazy mood tonight. Tune in next week for another - far more interesting - addition of Jessica's Thursday Thirteen!

Now, go see Leanne, the founding mother of the Thursday Thirteen and check out her Thursday Thirteen. If you do one of your own, post the URL in my comments and we'll all go take a look!

Possibilities

This is my entry into this month's Blogging for Books hosted by the very funny Joshilyn Jackson.

Music has always been a big part of my life and, in thinking about what to write for this month’s B4B, I realized that I have a close personal relationship with lots of songs. It was hard for me to pick just one.

At first I was going to write about Beach Baby by First Class – a Top 10 hit from 1974. We played that record at least a million times at my 10th birthday sleepover party. “Beach baby, beach baby, give me your hand. Give me something that I can remember-er-er. Surfin’ was fun. We’d be out in the sun every day-ay-ay ay-ay.” (Growing up in the suburbs of Chicago we could really relate to the surfing thing.) We played the 45 so many times that sometime around midnight my Dad threatened to break the record over his knee if we played that “goddamn song again!” (It’s that memory that prevents me – reluctantly – from telling the girls that if they play one more Hilary Duff song forty thousand times in a row . . . blah, blah, blah). I decided not to write about Beach Baby because I didn’t think one paragraph would be long enough to win B4B.

Seriously, though - there are tons of songs that I’ve thought about and listened to in the last few days trying to come up with the perfect one. Out of all the songs I had to choose from, one song kept popping into my head. Our Time from the Sondheim musical Merrily We Roll Along.

Merrily was a huge flop on Broadway (lasting only two weeks), probably because the story starts at the end and goes backwards in time making it a little hard to follow. I imagine that audiences didn’t want to work that hard. But the songs are wonderful – more melodic and less of an “acquired taste” than a lot of other Sondheim music.

When I was in college, I produced Merrily the summer after my sophomore year. I had only $5,000 that I somehow got the school to give me. I pulled it together, with an awesome (if small) orchestra, a hard-working cast and a director who was good but who was also a drunk (and a letch). Every night after rehearsal, I had to drive him to the corner store for a six-pack and then drive him home, all the while swatting his hands away from me. Which was hard since my car was a stick shift.

But I digress – Merrily is about the friendship of two guys who are a songwriting team. By the end (which is the beginning of the play), they have grown apart and become cynical. But at the beginning (which is the end of the play – I told you it was confusing), they were full of hope and looking forward to a great future. Our Time is a song about the possibilities of life. It’s hopeful. It was my favorite song in the show.

Something is stirring, shifting ground
It’s just begun
Edges are blurring all around and yesterday is done

Feel the flow, hear what’s happening, we’re what’s happening
Don’t you know, we’re the movers and we’re the shapers
We’re the names in tomorrow’s papers,
Up to us pal to show ‘em

It’s our time
Breathe it in, worlds to change and worlds to win
Our turn, we’re what’s new
Me and you pal, me and you

After I left college, I went to New York to start a career in theater production. As it turned out, theater jobs were hard to find and wouldn’t have paid the rent anyway. I worked at a talent agency and then at a couple of small television production companies until I left NY and went to law school. In three short years, I had become cynical. I had lost hope and gave up my dreams.

I turned 40 a year ago. As many people do at age-related turning points, I took stock in my life and realized that I needed to make some changes. I had lost a lot of myself when I became a lawyer, wife and mother. No one asked me to give anything up, it just happened. At 40, I was surprised to find that I didn’t know who I was anymore.

Something is stirring, shifting ground
It’s just begun
Edges are blurring all around and yesterday is done

Feel the flow, hear what’s happening, we’re what’s happening
Don’t you know, we’re the movers and we’re the shapers
We’re the names in tomorrow’s papers,
Up to us pal to show ‘em

It’s our time
Breathe it in, worlds to change and worlds to win
Our turn, we’re what’s new
Me and you pal, me and you

I think I got scared to put myself out there. When I was young, my expectations were too high and my failures (or what I saw as my failures) caused painful disappointment. I didn’t have the resiliency or the persistence to keep going. My fear kept me from taking chances.

Feel how it quivers, on the brink
What?
Everything

Gives you the shivers,
Makes you think there’s so much to stuff to sing

Me and you, we’ll be singing it, like the birds
Me with music and you with words
Tell ‘em things they don’t know
Up to us pal to show ‘em

When I turned 40 I had this weird thought – if I live to be 80, I have another whole life to live and I don’t want to blow it being afraid. In the past year I’ve started this blog, taken a writing class and picked up knitting again. I’m figuring out what I want to be when I grow up. It’s been a long time coming, but I’m starting to feel hopeful. I’m starting to take chances again. It feels good.

It’s our heads on the block, give us room and start the clock
Our time comin’ through, me and you pal, me and you
Me and you, me and you, me and you

Something is stirring, shifting ground
It’s just begun
Edges are blurring all around and yesterday is done

I think I’ve turned a corner.

Kickboxing kicked my ass

but I loved every second of it! Well, maybe not every second. The last fifteen minutes were really, really hard. I can barely type right now, my arms are so tired. Every muscle in my body is tired. What an incredible workout!

I was the oldest woman in the class (there was one man in addition to the instructor) and probably the most out of shape but it didn't matter. My (long-ago) dance training was really helpful. The class consists of short routines - like right leg roundhouse, jab, jab, cross, hook, back spin, back kick, roundhouse - that you do ten times each (on each side). The main problem I had was getting the spacing between my foot and the bag right. I was either too far away or too close half the time. It'll take me awhile before I can do the routines smoothly.

I had no idea how much fun it would be! And it felt great. I felt more powerful than I have in a long time (until the last 15 minutes of class - then I just felt like I needed oxygen.) I made arrangements with the babysitter to stay an hour later on Tuesdays so I can go to the class regularly. Now all I need to do is get my own boxing gloves - it was a little disgusting using the communal gloves. Your hands really sweat so think about what the communal gloves are like . . . ok, don't think about it. It's gross. Sorry. Just wish me luck in attempting to move tomorrow. I'll need it!

Random stuff

I got another TTLB promotion! I'm a Crawly Amphibian! Wow - where is everybody coming from and why aren't you commenting? (It's probably because of the Thursday Thirteen which I'll definitely do again this week).

Apparently you all don't like Monty Python songs. That's ok - this Friday I'll probably go back to music that's like a chick-lit equivalent. Deep songs sung by angst-filled women or something. Or maybe I'll go with something like Good Charlotte's The Anthem which I listened to this morning really loud on my iPod. I must be channeling some head-banging, disaffected teenager. It put a spring in my step. Really.

Speaking of head-banging, or not, I'm going to a kickboxing class tonight. Why? I just feel like doing something totally different and I'm pissed about the ten pounds I've gained over the last six months. And I'm feeling old and I don't like it so I figure I'll go to a class for young, fit people and feel like total crap tomorrow morning when I can't get out of bed. Seriously - I just feel like kicking something and thought this would be the least destructive way of doing it. Wanna bet I'll be the oldest woman there?

A new friend

Morphing into Mama and I had a wonderful and very long lunch yesterday at a little bistro near my apartment. She is as fabulous as you would guess from reading her blog. She's smart, funny, gorgeous, down to earth and really nice. She's going to make a great therapist (actually, she already is a great therapist she just doesn't have the degree yet). I just wish she didn't live so far away!

Thinking back, here are the expectations I had in writing this blog:

- working on my writing
- getting over my fear of writing "in public"
- having an outlet to express my feelings about various things
- sharing my life experience with other people in the hopes that things I've learned might help someone else.
- getting feedback from people about my writing and advice on various issues in my life

I hoped people would read my blog; I feared that no one would. I was so excited when I got my first comment - Sandra will always hold a special place in my heart for being the first person to comment! Realizing that I could insert a webcounter was a revelation - I could tell when people were reading even if they weren't commenting (or maybe they just stumbled on my blog and got the hell out of there as fast as they could but at least they were visiting, if only for a minute).
It didn't occur to me that this blog would help me develop a community. I have regular commenters (besides MIM and Sandra, there's landismom, a fab writer and one of the few people I "know" that really lives their values) and I have people that stop by on occasion. Like a "regular" community, an online community consists of people you see all the time and people you see every once in awhile. I read MIM, Sandra and landismom's blogs every day. I try to stop by the others on my list every couple of days and I try to add at least one new blog each week as a way of expanding my horizons (and increasing my community). It's the community that keeps me writing - I know how disappointed I am when one of my online friends doesn't post, I don't want to disappoint my regulars!

My one concern is that I've been spending so much time with my new online friends that I'm starting to neglect my old friends a little bit. I have to keep in mind the song I learned long ago in Brownies: Make new friends but keep the old. One is silver and the other's gold.

That's a good question

M-Girl and I went to The Gap last night to get her some clothes because despite the fact that I keep asking her nicely not to, she keeps growing. At the registers, they have glass bowls full of purple, sparkly lip gloss.

M-Girl pulled one out and said "Mom, can I have this?"
I said, "No, please put it back. Lord knows you have enough lip gloss."
M-Girl looks at me and says, "Who's Lord?"

Friday song

And now for something completely different . . . The Lumberjack Song by Monty Python! Why? Because I think it's hilarious and I figured we could all use a break from songs with actual meaning this week!
*************************************

Lumberjack: I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK, I sleep all night and I work all day.

Choir: He's a lumberjack and he's OK, He sleeps all night and he works all day.

Lumberjack: I cut down trees, I eat my lunch, I go to the lavatory. On Wednesdays I go shopping, and have buttered scones for tea.

Choir & Girl: He cuts down trees, he eats his lunch, He goes to the lavatory. On Wednesdays he goes shopping, And has buttered scones for tea.

Lumberjack: [In unison with Choir] I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK, I sleep all night and I work all day.

Lumberjack: I cut down trees, I skip and jump, I like to press wild flowers. I put on women's clothing, And hang around in bars.

Choir: He cuts down trees, he skips and jumps, He likes to press wild flowers. He puts on women's clothing, And hangs around in bars?

Lumberjack: [In unison with Choir] I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK, I sleep all night and I work all day.

Lumberjack: I cut down trees, I wear high heels, Suspenders and a bra. I wish I'd been a girlie, Just like my dear papa.

Thursday Thirteen

I'm not feeling very creative today so I'll take a page from the other bloggers listed below and do a list. Feel free to join us. Just do your own Thursday Thirteen and send me a link in my comments. I'll add you to the list below! Thanks to Leanne by way of e for this idea!

13. I'm a bit superstitious so I'm a little concerned about making a list of 13 things.

12. I won't let that stop me, though.

11. Speaking of bad luck, my car was towed on Sunday from in front of my apartment building. It had flashers on and I think the jerk watched me bring my groceries in before he towed me.

10. When I went to pick up my car, I swore at the tow truck driver and called him an asshole (among other things).

9. Really loud.

8. It made me feel better even if it didn't help anything (and probably hurt because he then left my car at the waaaaay back of the lot).

7. I don't know why I'm counting backwards.

6. I'm going to a book launch party tonight for this author's latest book. The party is being thrown by my fabulous neighbor who is starting a party planning business.

5. I'm going to meet this online friend on Sunday and I'm really excited.

4. Go check out her site - she's really funny.

3. I like blogging more than I like working.

2. And that might become a problem at some point.

1. I had a much harder time coming up with 13 things to say than I thought I would!

Now go check out other Thursday Thirteens and send me a link to your Thursday Thirteens! If you send me a link, I'll add your link below.

1. Leanne at Artist by Nature
2. e at retrospect
3. mommy k at petroville
4. Uzi at Uzi's Musings
5. the Crusty Crone at Crone's Corner
6. Mary at Elsewhere
7. Keb at What the
8. Interstellarlass at Interstellar Adventures

Help Yourself

Hello. My name is Jessica and I'm addicted to self-help books. I admit that I am powerless over my addiction. I haven't quite gotten to the point where I give myself over to a higher power, though. I have to figure out which higher power is the appropriate higher power to take over for me. That's a pretty big decision, don't you think? The way the Buddha would handle things is far different than the way the Christian God would handle them or another (lower case) god like, say, Zeus would. What if I do pick Zeus and Hera gets jealous. Chaos, I tell you. You can't take this stuff lightly. But that's a topic for another post.

Amazon.com just makes my problem worse. I don't even have to drag my ass to a book store to feed my addiction. All I need is a computer and a credit card. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad (at least for our budget) if I just took the books out from the library. But I need the full, new book experience - the new book smell, the crisp, clean, unfolded pages, the unbroken binding. A new book holds the promise of redemption - I will conquer my clutter, get fit in 15 minutes a day and I will create my life from the inside out, Dr. Phil!

The new book experience also involves the search for the right book to fix the issue du jour, reading reviews and looking at various writings by the same author or by different authors on the same topic. Damn you Amazon.com, you make it so easy! Once the purchase is made, the anticipation begins - checking the account status and tracking the package every day. Oh, when will it get here? How could I have survived this long without the wisdom this perfect book will surely impart? My life will be so much better once I read this book! And then the book arrives. I can't wait to rip open the box and start reading. There's no doubt that this book contains the answers I need. This is the last self-help book I will ever need!

I read the book, devouring its pages without savoring them. No time to waste! This book has the answers. The quicker I read it, the quicker my problems will be fixed and I will live happily ever after. Isn't happily ever after the promise of the fairy tales I grew up on? Sometimes I learn things that I didn't already know, sometimes I make changes to my attitude or behavior in response to things I learned from the book. But more often, the changes go the way of all of my New Year's resolutions - I make a half-hearted effort at change and give up after about a month (or less). Apparently I haven't learned that change is really difficult. It actually involves work. I'm all about the "new book experience" and the reading. Not so much about the actual change part.

So there's the inevitable let down. The book didn't live up to its promise, my problem's aren't solved. The clutter continues to conquer me, I'm nowhere near fit and I haven't managed to create my life from the inside out. I swear that I'm not going to buy any more of those books. I try to convince myself that all the wisdom I need is inside of me and no book is going to give me any answers I don't already know. It's like dieting - we all know that we need to eat fewer calories than we consume and we need to exercise. There's really nothing more to it - you can try all the fad diets you want but they don't change the basic math of weight gain and loss. There's nothing that any diet book can teach us about losing weight that we don't already know. In that area at least, I'm not the only one who has trouble with the actual changing of habits part of the equation.

Despite my best arguments with myself about how no book will help me, in time, the urge to buy returns. Amazon.com, that bastion of evil, will send me an email enticing me to look at books that might interest me based on previous purchases, most of which were self-help books. And the cycle of addiction begins anew.

Now I have so-called "friends" enabling my addiction. Sitting by my feet at my desk this very moment are several self-help books given to me by one of these friends. There are a few books by Stuart Wildeand a couple by Don Miguel Ruiz. For some reason, these authors managed to escape my search for the perfect book. Even though I have several other books that are in my reading queue including the book noted in the margin on the right, as well as three books by this author (in a compilation edition),this book and this book, I'll probably go home tonight and spend at least a little time perusing the new books I got today. Even though they are slightly used books and don't give the full "new book experience," they'll do in a pinch.

I suppose at some point I'll make another effort to break the addiction. But now I have a good excuse for reading these books - I need to share what I learn with all of you. See how this works? I now have an obligation to read self-help books. So you don't have to. I do it all for you, my dear readers. Maybe I don't need to read those books about being a more thoughtful and giving person after all!

Friday song (on Saturday)

Ok - so I lied. It's not really about clothes but it sort of is. So here goes, this week's Friday song is Who We Are by Hope Partlow.

I don't wanna put on my make up
Just like every girl in a magazine
That's not who I am when I wake up
That's not who I wanna be

There's so much more to me than
Meets the eye
In this life I know one thing

It doesn't really matter what you wear
Let the people stare
Cuz we are who we are who we are who we are
It doesn't really matter what car you drive
It's good to be alive
Yeah we are who we are who we are who we are
Who we are

Tell me baby do I look like the real thing
Or would you change the color of my eyes
Tell me why my television's filling me with lies

It doesn't really matter what you wear
Let the people stare
Cuz we are who we are who we are who we are
It doesn't really matter what car you drive
It's good to be alive
Yeah we are who we are who we are who we are

There is beauty on the inside
Yeah you're beautiful
All right!

Though it doesn't really matter what you wear
Let the people stare
Cuz we are who we are who we are who we are
It doesn't really matter what car you drive
It's good to be alive
Yeah we are who we are who we are who we are

It doesn't really matter what you wear
Let the people stare (it's good to be alive good to be alive)
Doesn't really matter what car you drive
It's good to be alive (who we are)
Yeah we are who we are who we are who we are who we are (it's good to be alive good to be alive)

When we are who we are

I think this song hit me this week because I'm going through a phase where I'm not feeling good about the way I look. I haven't been exercising, I've been eating too much junk and I've gained a few pounds. I've gained enough weight that it effects the way my clothes fit. I know that if I let that bother me, it doesn't do any good and it makes things worse - I'll eat to make myself feel better! Stupid, I know.

I don't need to tell you that our society values physical attractiveness to an unhealthy level. No matter how logically I try to see that and how many times I tell myself that how I look shouldn't matter, it does matter. It's not like I'm an actress or public figure. I don't have paparazzi snapping pictures of me without make up on. Which just makes my concern about my looks that much more ridiculous.

And the other silly thing is that I tend to feel intimidated by really attractive people. Or really wealthy people. I know, being rich and pretty doesn't equate with happiness or true contentment with life. I'm in a weird mood, I guess.

I don't want to teach my girls that they way they look is paramount. I try not to complain about my true body image in front of them and I have never talked about dieting. If I talk about wanting to lose weight, it's always couched in terms of eating more healthy foods in smaller portions. Never about trying to look better - only about health. But, to be totally honest, sometimes it's a lie. As unhealthy as this attitude is, there are times that I couldn't give a rat's ass about my health as long as I look half way decent in a bathing suit and my favorite pants don't pull at the thighs. Just don't tell my girls! (Thank God they aren't old enough to read this blog).

Say the party line with me - it's about who you are on the inside, not about what you look like or the clothes you wear.

Airport blogging

I'm sitting at LaGuardia waiting for my plane to board. I came to NY to attend a conference on the always interesting topic of Closed-End Fund governance. Just can't get enough of that stuff, I tell you!

So I made the HUGE mistake of booking a 6am flight out of Chicago. What the hell was I thinking? Of course, I went to my friends' house for dinner last night and drank wine and talked far later than I should have considering I was supposed to get up at 4:30am. So I get to bed a midnight and barely get any sleep before I hit the snooze button THREE times. Not a good start.

I somehow manage to leave the house by 5:10 but, of course, can't find a cab. I end up walking three blocks to the Embassy Suites and catch a cab in front. On a good day with no traffic, it takes about 20 minutes to get to O'Hare and luckily, it was a good day. But when I try to do self-service check-in, my boarding pass mysteriously doesn't print. So I move to another machine, same thing. Next machine tells me that because it's less than 30 minutes before the flight leaves I can't get a boarding pass. How pissed was I that I had been there at least (ok barely) 30 minutes ahead but American's stupid machines wouldn't print my boarding pass? Yes, I know - I could have printed my boarding pass from home but that would have required forethought and planning and we've already established that those are skills that I do not possess.

So the very "helpful" agent (sarcasm alert) tells me that there's no way I can get on that flight but maybe I can try those "other machines over there" and that might work. So I try the other machines - same thing. Two of them don't appear to work and the third one tells me "Loser - you're too late." So another "very helpful" agent tells me I have to get in the really long line to get help. I must have a fairy godmother because the agent at the desk was actually REALLY helpful and she said - "I think you can make it. Give it a try." Wow - how hard would it have been for one of the other two "very helpful" agents to actually stop chatting about their love lives and give me some real help.

Ok, so I make like O.J. and run to security where - shocker - the TSA agent is really nice and lets me into the First Class line so I can get through quickly. So I quickly and dutifully take my laptop out of my briefcase, put everything in the bins and put the bins and my shoes on the conveyor belt which is - not moving. Why? Because the conveyor belt lady is - reading. And not looking at the conveyor belt. So I look to the metal detector lady who waves me through and says - with a straight face - "Ma'am, you have been randomly selected for additional screening." Poor girl saw the look of utter horror, furious anger and total disbelief on my face (and also, my eyeballs popped out of my head), glanced at my boarding pass and said "Oh, no you didn't!" Then she turned to the conveyor belt lady who was - wait for it - still reading a book and gently let her know that she, um, had stuff to look at. I, however, was about to yell "WTF conveyor belt lady! Get a move on! I have a plane to catch!" But it's good that I didn't because that extra screening would have come on fast and furious.

So, I make the plane with plenty of time to spare. Go figure - I could have gotten that Starbucks afterall.

After the "very interesting" conference, I ended up with a couple hours to kill so I did what I used to do when I lived in NY - I walked around and looked at people and stuff. I was at the American Stock Exchange for the conference so I made my way over to Broadway and started walking north. I started in the financial district and moseyed up to Tribeca. Then I took a right turn on Canal Street and into Chinatown. There is really no city like NY. It's simply amazing how many little stores and businesses there are packed into these blocks. And so many of them sell the same junky purses, watches, jewelry, hats, clothes and stuff. How in the world do any of them make money?

The people watching is amazing. Well, except for the one guy that was walking in front of me on a side street. He was sort of well dressed - he had dress pants and a Hawaiian shirt and was wearing a baseball cap. He was strolling along and then all of a sudden he stopped, turned to the curb and WHIPPED IT OUT AND BEGAN TO PEE. I am so not kidding. And everyone just walked past like nothing out of the ordinary was going on but there was a man peeing in the street in the middle of the day! WTF! Now I remember why I moved out of NY. People in Chicago have the decency to pee in the alleyways.

Gotta go - the plane is about to board. I'll try to post the Friday song later tonight but if I don't get a chance, I guess it will be the Saturday song this week. Not to ruin the surprise or anything but it's another song by a lady singing about deep emotional issues. Only this time it's about clothes.

Ch ch ch chaaanges . . .

Oh look! More lame musical references from yours truly. Sorry, I just can't help myself.

I don't know why this occurred to me but I was just remembering the difficulty we had dropping M-Girl off at preschool two years ago. She would cry and cling and cry and cling. I'd hand her over to a teacher and she'd reach for me, tears streaming down her face. It was haaarible. Truly. The teachers told us that within seconds of our leaving, she was just fine and dandy. But of course. This went on most of the school year. It sucked.

Then it was time for junior kindergarten - and she pulled some of the same stuff. Big D and I learned early on that if we had Abby drop her off at class instead of one of us going in, M-Girl was miraculously tear and cling free. So her big sis dropped her off most of the year and we just waved from the car.

I was worried at the beginning of this school year. A-Girl's not around to walk her to class. I thought we'd have a lot of "Don't leave me, Mommy!" for a few months. We're in the car driving to school on the first day.

Me: M-Girl, do you want me to walk you to class this morning?
M-Girl: No.
Me: Really, I can. It's no problem.
M-Girl: No! I'll go myself.
Me: Um, ok.

So we pull up to the school. The gym teacher opens the door for M-Girl. She grabs her backpack and heads to the door.

Me: Bye, honey! Have a great day!
M-Girl: (Nothing - I was talking to her back. She was already heading up the stairs to class).
Me: *sniff*

Just a little crazy?

Is it just me or does anyone else think that this person is a little crazy?

Feelings . . . wo wo wo . . . feelings

Sorry for the really lame musical reference but I've been thinking about feelings lately. You should go check out Giovanni's new blog at Life Unscrambled. He writes about all kinds of interesting things but recently he wrote about the pursuit of happiness. He points out that it is impossible to be happy all the time and when we inevitably fail to be constantly happy, we figure there must be something wrong with our lives. That kind of disappointment can lead to depression. But if we just tried to be more realistic about life and its ups and downs, we'd probably be more content with our lives in general.

As I think I've mentioned recently, I come from a family that didn't appreciate strong emotions. Although negative emotions were particularly frowned upon, even strongly expressed positive emotions made my parents uncomfortable. I can't remember any specifics but as I think about it, I can remember feeling embarrassed at having gotten "overly" excited about something. Although I think I'm getting better at it, I still have trouble expressing my emotions. But emotions have a habit of getting out one way or another - we can either let them out in healthy, constructive ways or allow them to manifest themselves in destructive ways. Before we can express emotions in a healthy way, we have to learn to accept them.

This morning, M-Girl was angry and frustrated because she had a stuffy nose and didn't want to go to school. I told her that she wasn't sick so she needed to go to school. She was frustrated because she felt like I wasn't listening to her (and because she wasn't getting her way). Monday mornings are tough - they represent a change in routine from the weekend to the school week and she was probably a little sad about being separated from me after we just spent two full days together.

My temptation was to tell her to get over it, get up and get dressed. Instead, I tried to accept and acknowledge her feelings by saying that it was ok for her to be angry and frustrated. I told her she could continue to feel that way for as long as she needed to. However, she still needed to get ready for school. I hugged her a nudged her along a little and eventually she got dressed. And once she started getting ready to go, she was fine. (Except that she repeated the performance - unsuccessfully - for the babysitter in the afternoon saying that her nose was too stuffy for her to go to guitar lessons.) Hopefully, she's learning that it's ok to be angry and frustrated and that you can express those feelings and you won't get punished. I also hope she's learning that just because she's angry doesn't mean she'll get her way.

Sometimes when we tell our kids to stop crying or yelling, it may be because the expression of their emotions is making us uncomfortable. Certainly there are times when crying and screaming is not appropriate and we have to help them learn to control their emotional outbursts at those times. But there are times when we can - and should - let them express those strong emotions and help them learn to calm themselves down (we've taught our kids to take deep breaths). This is an essential life skill that they aren't going to learn at school.

A day at the circus

Well, it wasn't a whole day and it wasn't really the circus but M-Girl and I went to see Hephaestus: A Greek mythology circus tale at Lookingglass Theatre this afternoon. It was fabulous! It's narrated by a young girl (more about her later). Meredith said the little girl was her favorite part of the show. She's reading a book about the story of Hephaestus.

Hephaestus is the son of the Greek goddess Hera who is unhappily married to Zeus. She secretly gives birth to Hephaestus but because he's horribly disfigured and ugly, she casts him off Mt. Olympus. He falls for many years and by the time he lands in Lake Lemnos, he's fully grown. The queen of the sea nymphs saves him and he discovers that he has a talent for making things, including beautiful jewelry and "people" made out of silver. Hera sees this and gets jealous. She sends Isis, the Goddess of the rainbow, down to ask Hephaestus to come back. He creates a golden throne for Hera who comes down to earth to receive the gift but when she sits in the throne, she is bound by invisible ropes. Hephaestus refuses to let her go. Hera sends Ares, the God of war to convince Hephaestus to release her but he still refuses. Hera finally offers Aphrodite as a bride for Hephaestus. When Hephaestus sees Aphrodite, he falls in love and agrees to let Hera go. He then creates an even more beautiful throne for Hera and takes it up to her on Mt. Olympus.

Lookingglass has a relatively small (p.r. types would call it "intimate") theater space on Michigan Avenue in the old water pumping station across the street from the Water Tower. It's basically a black box, theater in the round. Not a place that you would expect to see world-class circus performances but that's what we saw today. Hera is played by a woman who is a member of the 7th generation of the Wallenda family. Her brother was in the show along with several other adults who literally grew up in circus families. They are amazing performers and it was surreal seeing real-life Wallendas.

One of the best things about the show is the way they weave the circus acts into the story in a way that fits better than I expected. Each of the gods/goddesses does a performance that seamlessly fits within the story. Ares was played by a young man who did rope tricks requiring amazing strength, control and courage. Isis was a beautiful woman with rainbow colored bows in her hair and she did graceful tricks on a rope swing. The queen of the nymphs did incredible hula hoop tricks with silver hoops created by Hephaestus. (This very moment, Meredith walked into my room with her hula hoop to practice!) Hera was strong and daring on a hoop trapeze (the first throne made by Hephaestus) and the tightrope. The music - heavy on the percussion - was perfect.

Ok, now back to the young narrator. She was nine years old and this was her theater debut. Not surprisingly, I thought about Abby the whole time I watched her. She has brown hair that was pulled back in pony tails. Her two front teeth are just coming in - just like A-Girl. (Thinking about it now, my heart hurts. I miss my baby). It was hard watching someone else's child perform knowing that my own baby is performing and I haven't been there to see her. But I digress.

As M-Girl and I were about to leave the theater, the girl was in the lobby with her dad so M-Girl and I went to say hi to her and tell her that we enjoyed her performance. I couldn't help but tell her dad about our own little performer. I talked to the girl about what it's like to be on stage and asked her if she was nervous. She said that before the show she walks around saying "Oh, no. I can't do this." but then when she gets on stage everything is fine. She seemed really comfortable out there - she has to sing and hit cues with her lines and she did a great job. Her dad and I talked about how incredible it is to see your own child on stage like that. We both grabbed our hearts and shook our heads at the same time! It's hard to find the right words to describe the feeling.

He said that people involved in the production have been encouraging them to get an agent for their daughter. This was not only her theater debut, it's her professional debut. He said they were not sure what they wanted to do and he asked if he could call me to talk about agents, etc. You all know how much I love to talk about A-Girl's career and give my advice to total strangers! So, of course I said yes.

I was a little nervous about approaching them in the lobby - you never know how people in that situation might act. I mean, they could have thought I was a psycho or something. A psycho hanging out with a five-year old and her pink Hello Kitty purse. Ok, maybe not. But still - her dad could have been a stuck up stage parent or something. Luckily, he's a really nice guy. Us down-to-earth, friendly-type stage parents have to stick together.

Friday song

Taking a page from Crouching Mommy, Hidden Laundry, I've decided to quote song lyrics on my blog. Taking another page from lots of bloggers including Megan and Mir, who, at one time or another have done regular Friday things, I'm going to try to do it every Friday.

So here's this week's Friday song: Everyday by Toby Lightman

Everyday is a struggle between what I wanna say
And what I should keep to myself
And the words that manage to leave my lips
Don't hurt me, but they hurt everyone else

And I find myself in need of a pause
I'm not sure why, but I think that it's because
Of this desire to be what others want me to be
Which is nothing close to me

But I'll see better when the smoke clears
When the smoke clears inside my head
And I can listen when the screaming doesn't repeat everything I've said
And all that remains me and who I am at the end of the day
And this happens everyday

Everyday is a battle between what I wanna know
And what I don't wanna figure out
And everything in between in these thoughts of mine
That you know I can't live with out

And I find myself in need of a pause
I'm not sure why, but I think that it's because
Of this desire to be what others want me to be
Which is nothing close to me

But I'll see better when the smoke clears
When the smoke clears inside my head
And I can listen when the screaming doesn't repeat everything I've said
And all that remains me and who I am at the end of the day
And this happens everyday

********************************
First of all, this is a beautiful song - quiet but powerful. Toby has an interesting, smoky voice that I love to listen to. And the lyrics hit me every time I hear the song.

There are times when I struggle with being myself. As I was growing up, I was taught that expressing strong emotions was a bad thing. And anger was something that just wasn't done in my house (unless you were my dad and your teenage daughter was still on the phone at 2 a.m. on a school night, then you could get mad). But the problem with that kind of upbringing is that you learn that it just isn't worth the risk to express any emotions except in a very controlled manner. Eventually, you figure out that it's safest to express the emotions that people expect you to express - in the way they expect you to express them - and not necessarily the ones you feel. At some point, you aren't even sure what you feel anymore and that's when you forget who you are.

I like the part where she says she's in need of a pause. It would be good for me to learn to pause before I respond to things so that I can make sure that my response is genuine. Maybe if I slow down and listen a little better, I'll be able to hear my own voice speaking.

Family and friends

This summer we became acquainted with the parents of one of M-Girl's friends. We had dinner at their house, they had dinner at our house and we became friends. The father has really taken to M-Girl and become kind of like an uncle to her. I realized today that, to me, they've become like the family I no longer have. I'm estranged from most of my family, for reasons that are too numerous and painful to go into now. But the way these friends have acted towards me during this time of stress have made me realize some things about my family, and about myself.

I come from a family of "takers", for lack of a better word. Unfortunately, I've realized that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. It's not that we aren't generous in our own way - we always give to charity, we do things for other people, we're friendly and nice (most of the time). It's on an emotional level that we have our real problems. It's every "man" for himself. We have trouble in groups because we can't really put the interests of the group - or other individuals in the group - ahead of our own interests. When we do give of ourselves emotionally, we expect something in return - complete and unquestioning adoration and obedience, mostly.

"Look at me! I gave you a hug and told you I love you. What more do you want from me? Time, attention, actual caring? Sorry, too much of my own shit to deal with." or "Time to buy a prom dress? Well, maybe I can go with you but I might have something better to do. Oh, your step mom is going with you instead? In that case I'll for sure be able to be there." or "By the way, we're having a party next week and you'll be there. Seven months pregnant, middle of the summer and no car? Take a train. We expect you to show up."

I was talking with a girlfriend the other day. This summer she's been re-evaluating a lot of things in her life, and taking a close look at her relationships. She's an incredibly giving and warm person. She said she's decided to get rid of the "energy suckers" in her life. Those people that just take and don't give anything, or enough, in return. That's my family. Sometimes, that's me. I don't want to be an energy sucker anymore.

So these friends of ours - they invite M-Girl for playdates and sleepovers and have me over for dinner. They call and ask how I'm doing and make sure I'm not alone too much. They're really there for me, it's not just words. They treat me like my fantasy family treats each other. I feel comfortable with them, like I can be myself and there's no judging, no expectations for anything other than friendship. I think it's time I learn to be a better friend and I think I've found a good example to follow.

Scattered

I'm feeling a bit scattered these days. There are so many things I like to do - reading, knitting, writing - but I never feel like I have enough time to devote to those interests.

I'm in various stages of reading several books - Patricia Cornwell's The Last Precinct, John Twelve Hawks' The Traveler, Harriet Lerner's The Dance of Anger (actually, the book is the trilogy including The Dance of Intimacy and The Dance of Deception but I've only started the first of the three). I also have several books waiting in the wings (including a book on how to manage peri-menopause which I think I'm avoiding because it'll probably tell me I have to quit my Starbucks habit and I just don't think I can do that).

I'm working on several knitting projects - I've started two baby blankets and have a third in waiting, there's a throw for Dave I started two years ago that I haven't even looked at in ages and somewhere along the line I started a sweater for myself that I'll probably pull out and start over at some point. I also have enough yarn for several other projects. But that doesn't stop me from looking at yarn websites yearning to buy more!

And then there's the writing that I love to do but am forever procrastinating on - I have at least two stories/book ideas going right now (meaning I've actually started to write stuff) and lots more that bubble to the surface of my mind now and then. For a long time I've had a fantasy about making a living as a writer someday. But writers have to actually spend time writing and I'm forever telling myself I'll write "later." Of course, later never comes. Or when it comes, I have to go make dinner or get some sleep or go to work. Or I write here, which is great but isn't necessarily something that will ever pay the bills.

On top of all that, there's every day life that needs attention. I want to spend time with Meredith (and when they get back, Dave and Abby), I need to cook, do laundry and clean (at least every now and then). There are bills to pay and projects around the house that just need doing. Oh, yeah - and then there's my day job. It's not a bad job, there are lots of things about it that I like (not the least of which is the people I work with) and the pay's nothing to sneeze at. Given the lifestyle to which I've become accustomed, I have no intention of leaving here any time soon (unless I win the lottery). Somewhere in there I think about fitting in exercise but it never seems to make the cut.

I guess I wish that things were flipped around so that I could spend the bulk of my time on creative pursuits and less of my time on earning a living in the corporate world. How do other people do it? I know there are people out there that manage to accomplish far more than I do and I'd love some advice on how to stop procrastinating and actually do something creative.

Long distance

So M-Girl got to talk to A-Girl and Big D for a little while last night. After that, she slept better than she had in weeks. Talking on the phone isn't as good as being in person but it's better than nothing.

A-Girl said she's having a really good time. She loves performing and thinks everyone is sooooo nice. She sounds good. The little bit that I can see her on the webcam, she looks good. I really miss her. I miss my husband too but we are at least able to IM and talk a little bit more. He stays up and talks to me while A-Girl sleeps and then I stay up to talk to him while A-Girl's at school in the mornings.

I can't wait to see them. I can't wait to see the show. It'll be nice to meet more of the people so I can put faces with names. Sometimes I feel like I have to pinch myself to make sure this isn't a dream. When A-Girl said she wanted to be an actress, Big D and I talked about the possibility that she'd be successful but we're nothing if not realistic. The fact that she's done as well as she has really blows me away sometimes. In truth, a part of me wonders whether we should put the breaks on but then I talk to her and she gushes about how much she's enjoying herself. And although she misses her friends and me and her sister, she seems to be handling it really well.

As adults, we know that there are trade-offs in pretty much every choice we make. If we decide to live in the Midwest, we know that we'll have to deal with the winters. If you choose to live in the city, you have to deal with traffic and lack of affordable parking. If you live in the suburbs, you have to get up with the roosters to get to work on time. You can't have everything. As kids, the choices aren't generally as monumental - if you choose Doritos for you snack, you can't have Fritos, too. If you wear a skirt on the coldest day of the year, you have to deal with your legs getting cold. Nothing earth shattering. But at the tender age of 7 1/2, A-Girl's had to learn that if you choose to be in show business, you may have to be away from your family and friends for months at a time. You have to work hard - harder than the adults in the show because the adults don't have to do 16 hours of school each week on top of the show schedule. What's so amazing is that she understands and accepts the choices she makes. She expresses her feelings - she misses everyone - but she doesn't complain. And that makes me really proud.

Sore loser

Not so long ago, my kids were playing at a friend's house. A-Girl was playing Nintendo (or Play Station or X-Box, who the hell can keep them straight) with her friend, a boy. A-Girl was kicking his ass at Super Mario Brothers or something, which pissed him off so much that he reached over and pushed the restart button. Because he wasn't winning. This was a five year old child who was getting ready to start kindergarten. Why did he have such a hard time losing? Because his parents (his father mostly) always let the kid win whenever they played anything.

It really bugs me to see that. It's not that I'm mean and take pleasure in beating little kids at some video game. But when you let a child win - no matter what the game is, you teach him all the wrong things. You teach him that it's not ok to lose, that he should be rewarded even if he doesn't work hard or isn't good at something, that the world revolves around him. You teach him to be a sore loser and that just sucks. It's going to be so hard for that kid to make friends because no one wants to play with a sore loser.

There are certain games that don't require skill (Candyland or Chutes and Ladders) so kids can learn to win and lose gracefully. My husband taught the girls to say "Good game" to their opponent and shake hands after every game - win or lose. And quitting in the middle of a game because you're losing is a punishable offense. It's not that my kids never get upset when they lose, but they aren't sore losers.

What do you think? Do you think it's ok to let kids win? Sometimes, never or always? I suppose that if I was playing basketball with M-Girl, I wouldn't be body checking her all over the court or anything but I wouldn't let her win. Oh, wait - I suck at basketball. And I'm out of shape. She could probably whip my ass. Well, anyway, you get the point.

Opening Night!

A-Girl made it through opening night in China and Big D said she had a great time. I haven't gotten many details - they were on their way to a cast party when I talked to them. Big D said she did awesome. She said she was nervous before the show but once she walked on stage, she wasn't nervous anymore.

It's bittersweet. I'm so proud of her and excited about this opportunity she's getting. She's on a big adventure and she's learning a lot about herself and the world. I'm getting details about the things they're doing but it isn't the same as being there. When your kids are born, you know that at some point you'll have to let them go to live their own lives. Even if it is only temporary, A-Girl's living her own life and I'm not there to see it. The best time to talk to my girls is lying in bed with them. I don't know why but that's when they offer observations of their world that don't come out at other times. That's what I miss the most with A-Girl gone. I miss snuggling and having her play with my hair while we talk about the day.

We've got good technology - we can call each other over the internet and I can see her on the webcam. But we can't have one of our typical rambling conversations. There's too much of a delay, things are too easily misunderstood. Since they're living in a hotel, my husband is always in the room while we're talking. It's not like she or I would hide anything important from him but we can't have real girl talk while he's around. I'm sure she has different conversations with him when I'm not around. I miss having alone time with her.

On the other hand, M-Girl and I are getting lots of quality time together. We're having a good time and not getting on each other's nerves too much. She asks for a nightly back rub (she loves to have me rub her shoulders) and she always offers me a back rub in return. She's been crawling into bed with me in the mornings - it's a nice way to wake up. Except this morning - she had forgotten to shut off her alarm clock and it started playing its annoying Powerpuff Girls song. I could hear it clear across the apartment so I told her she needed to go shut it off before the neighbors break in and smash it. She said "Why do I always have to do everything when I'm tired?!" I gave her one of my patent-pending "You better do what I say" looks. She stood up on my bed and started to march off in a huff and stomped on my shin in the process. She may be small but she stomps hard! At least it got me out of bed.

A Parrothead is born!

Big Jimmy Buffett fans call themselves Parrotheads. I had heard of Parrotheads over the years and, I have to say, I just didn't get it. But on Sunday night I went to the Jimmy Buffett concert at Wrigley Field. I can now say that I would be proud to call myself a Parrothead. I won't wear the funny clothes, though. I just don't look good in Hawaiian prints and silly hats. It was one of the better concerts I've been to (and the only concert I've gone to in the last 10 years). It was great, not so much because of the quality of the music (Buffett's good but I wouldn't call him a great musician) - it was the atmosphere. It was being at Wrigley on a beautiful, end of summer evening. It was the colorful outfits, people having a good time. It was the overpriced margaritas.

I went with a girlfriend from work who got the tickets from her boss who got the tickets from Forbes Magazine (we advertise in there a lot). Thanks Forbes! This is a woman that I've known for several years but it's only recently that we've gotten to be more than "Hello in the hall" friends. Now we're "Let's have lunch and talk about our kids" friends. Her recent promotion has us working together more often. We had a fabulous time - we danced and sang along and talked over the noise until our voices were hoarse.

There were a lot more "AARP-eligibles" in the crowd than I would have guessed. I would say the average age was 35 to 45. Virtually everyone around us was singing along to every song. Given that I have no Jimmy Buffett albums and have never been to one of his concerts, I was surprised that I knew most of the songs or at least had heard them over the years. I didn't realize it but Jimmy Buffett is a big part of the musical fabric of my life. (Cue music - "Memories") It's the kind of music that was played at college parties and bars. Not to sound corny, but it really is the music of good times. You can't be depressed listening to Jimmy Buffett. Even his last encore - a nice rendition of Arlo Guthrie's City of New Orleans accompanied by a slide show of New Orleans street scenes (before Katrina) - didn't bring the mood down. It was an uplifting celebration of what was instead of a mourning of what's gone. Maybe it's too early for that, I don't know. But it was beautiful and touching and not the least the bit sad.

My favorite song of the night - and I know this is predictable - was Margaritaville. Partly because it's the only song that I know all the words to. Partly because it was a great crowd experience - you just know that every last person in the stadium knows that song by heart and hearing everyone sing together is powerful. Even if it is a silly song. (Gosh - can I say that and still be a Parrothead?)

On that note - I'm going to order a greatest hits album. No self-respecting Parrothead would be caught dead with a Jimmy Buffet-less ipod.

Witchcraft?

"Begun in 1990, the Blah Blah Firm has undergone several incantations to attain its present form today." Found on a website that shall remain unnamed because it's a client and I try not to piss off clients. Really, I do.

What kinds of spells do you think they used? Were they simply shape shifting or truly morphing from one form to another? All this witchcraft - how very Harry Potterish of them. This kind of word misuse drives me nuts. (It's INCARNATIONS, you idiots! INCARNATIONS!) I don't care how good these people are at what they do. If they can't bother to have someone competent proofread their website, I don't want to work with them.


(Watch - despite my use of spell check and my own proofreading, I've probably misspelled or misused several words! That would be so ironical, wouldn't it?)

"Everyone must leave New Orleans"

Devastating. I haven't been watching the news coverage of Katrina - mostly because I just generally don't watch the news, too depressing. But I woke up this morning and saw the Tribune headline - 80% of New Orleans underwater. That is so hard to fathom. Where are they going to put everyone? How in the world are they going to get all those people out of the Superdome?

I'm going to donate something to the American Red Cross but I'm waiting to hear if our company will double their usual matching. My heart and my prayers go out to all the people impacted by this disaster.

Another promotion!

Wow - I'm moving up in the world again. I have now been promoted to Flippery Fish status in the TTLB Ecosystem. In truth, I have absolutely no idea what it means but I can always use a boost to the ol' self-esteem, however dubious.

Take that spammers!

I figured out how I can prevent comment spam with word verification. I don't know if I missed it before or if it's new but either way, no more comment spam! Yippee! But I'll kinda miss those bizzaro comments like - "Hey, nice blog. I'll definitely bookmark it! I'm thinking about starting a blog to discuss vacuum cleaners and the political persecution of Chuckie Cheese. Come take a look and let me know what you think."

On another note, the weather here is beautiful! Relatively cool with very little humidity. Do I want to be at the office? Why no. But thanks for asking. The good news is that I have no meetings today so I can sit here and work, work, work my little fanny off and try to leave early. Maybe M-Girl and I will eat our dinner on the veranda. Ok, we don't have a veranda. But doesn't "veranda" (said with a slight Mrs. Howell accent) sound better than "balcony" (said with a nasally Chicago accent)? I think so.

And for all you Gen X young'uns out there who don't know who Mrs. Howell is or for the rest of us baby boomers who need a refresher, check this out.

And more good news! I've gone from a Lowly Insect to a Slimy Mollusc on the TTLB Ecosystem. I couldn't be more excited.

M-Girl's first sleepover

My baby's growing up! She's having her first sleepover tonight. She's over at her friend Super Boy's house. She had a playdate with him this afternoon and I joined them for dinner tonight. The two of them begged me to let M-Girl sleepover. I know them well, she's comfortable at their house and they don't live far so I was ok with it. I also didn't leave until they were in bed. Super Boy's dad told M-Girl that if she had any worries during the night and wanted to go home, he and Super Boy would bring her home, no questions asked. Super Boy's dad is a nice guy.

A little over a year ago M-Girl and A-Girl stayed with friends in L.A. while Big D and I were at a business function for a couple of days in Santa Barbara. But M-Girl was with her sister which, I think, made it easy for her.

She's only five but she's quite independent for her age. I'm not worried about her - I guess I'm more worried about myself. I have the whole house to myself now for the first time in . . . forever. I feel like I should do something special. Let's see . . . what to do.

I know! I'm going to sleep!!!

Shopping under the influence

I had one drink with dinner and this is what happens. I should not be allowed to take such a cute child shopping when I am in a weakened state. I swear - we were just going to Marshall's to get her some new undies. That's it. So how did I walk out of there with two packages of undies, a set of socks, two pairs of shoes and this blanket? I am so weak.

So many thoughts, so little time

Today I had lots of thoughts about things to write but I had no time to write. Now that I have a little time, I can't think of anything to write about! Truth be told, I don't actually have any time to write, what I'm really doing is procrastinating. I was about to leave the office with time to spare so that I could stop at Jewel to buy some food. But I hate the thought of grocery shopping so I decided to blog about it instead of doing it.

In our household's division of labor, my hubby has taken on the role of designated grocery shopper. He's actually the designated shopper for pretty much everything except clothes for the kids and make up products for me. The reason for this is simple. He's a great shopper and I'm not. He makes good decisions - knows a good price when he sees it, is efficient when he shops and rarely makes impulse buys. I, on the other hand, tend to wander around the grocery store consumed by aimless indecision, dreaming about elaborate meals involving exotic things like eggplant and cous cous that I will never actually make (and my kids would probably never eat). I am also the queen of the impulse buy (those Double Stuff Oreos are really hard to pass up). So, after twelve years with Big D, I am unaccustomed to grocery shopping and feeling great dread about the three to five months ahead of me during which I will need to do the shopping.

Ok, I am being a bit over-dramatic. I know that if I'm really petrified of actually going to the store (or if I get really lazy about it), I can use Peapod. And I'm not really petrified anyway. The truth is, I'm lazy. I don't feel like going to the store and - more importantly - I don't feel like cooking dinner. So M-Girl and I are going out to dinner tonight - probably to California Pizza Kitchen. I have a special birthday coupon they sent for M-Girl and I could use a margarita. And the M-Girl looooves eating out. So, there you have it. I've blogged myself into staying away from Jewel (at least for today) and eating out. I think I like this blogging thing!

Totally cool

I am sitting at my computer in Chicago watching A-Girl sitting in her hotel room in Hong Kong. She's making faces at herself mostly and also blowing kisses a lot. We talked for awhile through Skype and Big D even brought his computer with the camera over to the window so I could see the view from their room. I love technology! We just have our webcams on now so we can see each other and we're IM'ing when we have something to say. It's almost as if they were home, but not really. Technology can't replace a good old, in person family hug. But these webcams sure are cool!

They made it to Hong Kong!

They got to Nagoya, Japan around 6:30pm and were able to get on a cargo plane (!) from Nagoya to Hong Kong at 10:30 pm. So they made it to Hong Kong without having to go through customs in Japan in order to sleep a few hours and then get back to the airport with a gillion pounds of luggage.

I was able to speak to them through Skype, a great free program that allows you to make free phone calls anywhere in the world via your computer). Other than a pretty significant delay, it was like they were next door. They sound like they're in good spirits.

A-Girl has rehearsals for their performance during the Miss Hong Kong pageant on Friday starting at 5 and again most of the day Saturday so the work starts right away. She's really excited. Big D has her writing about her experiences and feelings - once we get a website up and running, they'll put it all online.

The house was so quiet last night and this morning. School doesn't start for a few weeks and camp is over so there's no mad rush to get ready in the morning. I got up and did yoga for about half an hour (which is about all I could take given how out of shape I am). I was actually ready to go to work when the babysitter arrived, which is not something that happens often. It probably had something to do with the fact that M-Girl slept late. We'll see what happens once I have to get the little non-morning person out of bed and ready for school on time!

And they're off . . .

Just a quick note to say that A-Girl and Big D left for Asia this morning. Actually, they are now sitting at O'Hare Airport waiting for their flight which has been significantly delayed. It was originally scheduled to leave at 12:40 p.m. but was delayed until 2:45 p.m. Then it got delayed until 3:30 p.m. They will miss their connecting flight from Nagoya, Japan to Hong Kong and, just to make matters worse, their connecting flight was the last of the night. They will have to stay overnight in Japan and fly out the next morning.

That wouldn't be so bad but they have six heavy suitcases, two heavy backpacks and an American Girl doll. (They'll be gone for three to five months - they need a lot of stuff!) Big D can't carry all of that himself and A-Girl isn't big enough to be much help. American Airlines told him that they won't check the bags through to the next day's flight so he has to get the bags and somehow get them to the hotel and get them back to the airport the next morning. And then get them to the hotel in Hong Kong.

On top of that, on Friday afternoon, A-Girl has a rehearsal in Hong Kong for their performance at the Miss Hong Kong Pageant on Saturday. We're hoping that A-Girl will make it to Hong Kong before the rehearsal starts. They do have another rehearsal scheduled for Saturday morning but it's too bad that she won't have been in Hong Kong overnight so she could start Friday fresh and ready for rehearsal. Instead she'll be flying in from Japan at the last minute.

I'm confident that it will all work out in the end but I feel bad that Big D has to go through all this stress to get there. On the bright side, they will be sitting in business class all the way to Japan so they'll have plenty of leg room, snacks and entertainment. Hopefully, they'll be able to get some sleep!

It was so hard to say goodbye - I sobbed while they got in the cab. A-Girl was talking about the mixed feelings she has going away - she's excited and happy but she's also sad and scared. I totally know how she feels! I know it will be a great experience for her. I only wish I could share more of it first hand.

On another note, M-Girl is doing better and eating a little bit more each day. Her voice still sounds a little funny but hopefully that will get better as she heals. She had a tough night last night knowing that Big D and A-Girl were leaving today but she's off at Navy Pier with her favorite babysitter so she's doing ok. I think the next couple of days will be difficult for her as she realizes that A-Girl and Daddy aren't coming back right away. I need to find a way to help her through the tough times without spoiling her (or myself).

The party's over . . .

Yesterday we had a going away party for A-Girl and Big D. This is the first time we've really entertained at our "new" apartment. We moved in a year ago so by "new" I mean that we haven't fully unpacked yet. So yesterday we ran around like maniacs unpacking boxes, cleaning and decluttering before the guests came. It was a little nuts. Ok, it was a lot nuts.

But the party turned out great - there were about 40 adults and 30 or so kids. We had the kids on the 12th floor swimming and eating pizza in the party room while most of the adults were up in our apartment eating good food and drinking. We had three lifeguards/babysitters at the pool to watch the little buggers while the adults had fun. Then we had this guy come to entertain us. He's a really funny magician and self-described "balloonatic." He performs at Navy Pier and other places around Chicago so definitely check him out if you're in town.

So now we're all completely exhausted but we still need to get A-Girl and Big D packed and ready to go by Wednesday morning. M-Girl's still healing - it's slow going but she's doing better every day. I am actually going to attempt to go to work tomorrow so we'll see how that goes. Even though I've been at work for the last couple of weeks, I haven't really been there, you know? I'm hoping that I can get into some kind of routine once they leave. It's the anticipation and all the planning and preparation that's exhausting. And there's still lots to do . . .

Another quick update on M-Girl

She's doing a little better today but she hasn't eaten much in the last few days. Pretty much all she's managed to eat is ice cream and milk shakes from McDonald's. Big D and I really try to keep the kids' sugar intake at a low to moderate level so giving her ice cream every day is not something we feel very good about.

Although I hate to accuse my kids of being Machiavellian, she may be taking advantage of the fact that we get a bit soft when our kids aren't feeling well. She's no dummy - she's figured out that we aren't going to force her to eat anything in particular right now. Our babysitter managed to get her to eat some yogurt and cottage cheese yesterday by having M-Girl take two bites and then letting her play for a little while before having her take two more bites. Good thing our babysitter has a level of patience that I don't possess.

The other thing that's hard is keeping her from being too active. She's supposed to be taking it easy right now but at certain times of the day, she's got so much energy that it's hard to keeping from bouncing around (literally - she doesn't walk, she bounces and jumps - we should start calling her Tigger). I tried to explain to her that she has scabs in her throat and if she's too active, they could open up and start bleeding. And if that happens, she might have to go to the hospital - graphic, I know but she's one of those kids that picks at her scabs, she understands what I'm saying. She nodded her head and said "Ok, mommy." And the next thing I know, she's doing wind sprints up and down the hallway!

A-Girl's having a hard time with the situation because she really wants more of my attention before she leaves for Asia. She's going to be gone for at least three months and although I'll see her when M-Girl and I visit in October, that's still two months that we'll be away from each other. We've never been apart more than a few days at a time. I'm sure it will be hard on both of us. The last few days, she's felt like M-Girl was getting all of my attention and she's not entirely wrong about that.

It's another one of those situations where I feel stretched in too many directions. There are so many things I should be spending time on and I'm not spending enough time on any of them. There's the kids, Big D, my work, cleaning the house, preparing for a going away party on Saturday, helping Big D and A-Girl get ready to go, the usual care and feeding of the house and the family. This list doesn't really give a sense of the sheer volume of things that need to be done and the significant lack of time in which to do them. Big D hasn't slept enough in weeks, he wakes up in the middle of the night and starts working. I sleep but then I feel guilty about it - not the most effective reaction, is it?

However, this afternoon I am getting a massage, facial and haircut. Tomorrow morning I'm getting my highlights touched up. So I have a bunch of things to feel guilty about. Oops, I mean I'm taking care of myself and that's good, right? Also, it makes Big D feel good because I'm taking care of myself and using gift certificates (for today's pampering) that we've had lying around for over a year. Ok, I gotta get back to work now. The overwhelming desire to procrastinate is being taken over by the overwhelming guilt caused by not getting any work done.

Update on M-Girl

She's doing better today although she woke up with a low-grade fever. She slept with me again last night but made it through the whole night without any Tylenol for pain, which is good. She's a tough kid.

Yesterday, she didn't eat much. I gave her some Tylenol in the afternoon which apparently didn't sit well with her relatively empty stomach. The poor thing tossed her cookies in our bed. I got her in the bath which really helped her feel better. I cleaned off the bed as quickly and thoroughly as I could. Apparently I didn't do a good enough job, because the last thing M-Girl said to me before she fell asleep was "Mom, the bed smells a little like throw up." Unfortunately, she was right. I loved our pillow top mattress until now - that sucker soaks in puke like nobody's business.

M-Girl's surgery

M-Girl had her tonsils removed yesterday. She also had her adenoids removed (again) and tubes put in her ears (again). She got through the surgery really well and we were home last night. This is a tough morning for her, though. It's so sad to see your baby in pain and not be able to do much about it. I'm supposed to be giving her Tylenol with codeine every few hours. It was really fun having to wake her in the middle of the night to give her medicine that makes her gag. But the nurse said that if you go too long before you give them pain medication, the pain can get so bad that you can't get them to take the medication and they stop drinking fluids, which is bad. This morning I had to give her antibiotics and ear drops. The ear drops are really uncomfortable for her and - oh goody - we get to do them three times a day for five days.

Now we'll spend the next 14 days trying to figure out how to get her to eat soft foods that are relatively healthy. She informed me that she does not like jello unless it has "toppings" (meaning Cool Whip). She doesn't like oatmeal and isn't a big fan of scrambled eggs. She loves yogurt but we're a little concerned about giving her too much dairy since she's kind of phlegmy as it is. She also loves ice cream - 'natch. It appears that if we offer to let her have ice cream if she eats something healthier first, she's willing to compromise. And that's a good sign.

Help me, please.

I'm trying to decipher the care label on some "squishy" pillows I bought for the kids. Apparently, the Japanese have a separate standard for care labels. . I'm pretty sure I can wash this in a front loading machine in cool water but I can't figure out what the last one means. Given the gazillion things I should be doing right now, deciphering the label on a pillow should be at the bottom of my list, right? Please put me out of my misery and help me figure out how to clean these puppies. Much appreciated!

Dancing in the streets

One of the activities at summer camp was a dance class where each age group was taught a different dance or two. It was run by a young woman who is starting her own dance studio in the city. The little ones did a dance to Hard Knock Life (with a cute middle section that had them dancing to some rap music) and the older ones did a dance to Car Wash and Switch. Yeah, I didn't know what Switch was either. The tune is catchy but the only word I understood was "switch." Go figure.

Anyway, today there is a Children's Art Fair one block from our house in the "Cathedral District." At noon, they had the kids do their dances. Dave brought his new toy - a video camera with a wide angle lens and got some cute footage. It's a beautiful day, in the shade, but we were sitting in the very hot sun and, I swear, my eyeballs were melting.

Now I'm going to Marshall's with A-Girl to do some clothes shopping. There's a big sale and there aren't many things I like better than a big sale. My motto - "Never buy retail." Ok, I think I stole that from someone but I can't remember who.

Happiness #3

Living in the city makes me happy.

There's a good energy here in Chicago. The entire lake front belongs to the public. We have Lincoln Park, Grant Park and Millennium Park. I love the theaters and museums (although I don't get to the museums as much as I'd like). I can walk to work. If I take a cab, I can be at work in five minutes, which is handy when I oversleep. And, I don't have to get up at the crack of dawn to catch a train to get to work by 9:00am. If there's something going on at the kids' school, I can go there during the day without having to take a whole day off like my suburban colleagues. We don't have a lawn to mow! We have two big movie theaters within waling distance and all the shopping you can stand. There are tons of great restaurants. Most of the time, the massive amounts of tourists walking around our neighborhood don't bother me.

There is one thing about the tourists that I can't understand - why in the world would anyone wait over an hour for a table at Giordano's? I mean, it's good pizza and all (it's the only kind we order in) but seriously - waiting over sixty minutes to eat pizza? Eating at Hard Rock Cafe or Rain Forest Cafe makes more sense than that. And I really can't understand why anyone would eat at either place with all the other fabulous and interesting places to eat. But I digress.

Other things in the city that make me happy: Good street performers, the great landscaping along Michigan Avenue, Buckingham Fountain. Did I mention that we don't have a lawn to mow? I like that.

BTTW

Ok - I know Morphing Into Mama isn't the only one curious about what "BTTW" means. So here goes. It's something that little M-Girl has been saying for awhile. She'll say "I love you bigger than the world." Sometimes it's "I love you bigger than the universe." Isn't that sweet? So that's what Dave meant by BTTW.

We are really mushy. Hope not too many of you lost your lunch reading this!

Happiness #2

My husband, Big D, makes me happy. He is, with all appropriate deference to James Brown, the hardest working man in America. And most of what he does is for his family and friends.

I love you, honey!

Happiness Challenge

Well, I stumbled on The Happiness Challenge suggested by Pretty Purple Princess and decided it would be a good idea for me to try it out. She suggests that we do one post a day about something that makes us happy. I have so much to be happy about and thankful for and yet I'm a big whiny-pants complainer most of the time. So, here goes on my first Happiness Challenge post:

"Family Hugs" make me happy. We've been doing them since the kids were babies. We pick the girls up, we all hug in a circle and yell "Family Hug!!!" I hope the kids are never too old for Family Hugs.

Family Hugs to all of you today!!!

Not at all satisfying

Well, I did get to send the email I talked about in my last post but SOMEONE simply didn't get it. He sent me a reply that made no sense at all. Even worse, his reply did not contain the one thing it should have contained - an apology. I know my dear husband will laugh at this coming from me but I'll say it anyway - some people just cannot admit when they are wrong.

I told you so

I love saying "I told you so." Or, more accurately, I love being in the smug position of being able to say those words, even if I don't actually say them. This has to do with a situation at work and only us dorky lawyers who specialize in mutual fund matters would be remotely interested in the details so I won't bore you all to death with them.

Suffice it to say that my (bad) habit of never deleting emails unless I have to has served me well today. I found the smoking gun - a Powerpoint presentation that was sent to someone in April. The other day, while this someone was firmly planted in the saddle of his high horse, he claimed that we hadn't told him that a particular transaction was due to settle in July. He said we told him it would settle "later in the year" (something that was never uttered from my lips).

This someone is from a very big, very important client of ours so he needs to always be right. So I can't say the words I long to say. I will get to forward him the "smoking gun" email that he received in April and I will get to say something like "just wanted to point out that the information was in this presentation that you received . . ." and I will do it as a response to his "high horse" email where he said it was all our fault because we didn't tell them. I have to be nice though, which kinda sucks, but at least I can rub it in, just a little.

Another stage mother post

Christine asked about how A-Girl got into the business and whether the money is good enough to make it worthwhile. I was going to email her an answer but thought that other people might have the same questions so I thought I'd do a post instead.

I hesitated to do this because what I'm going to say here might come off as bragging about my kid. What I want to do is give people an idea about what it takes - in my opinion - for a child to be successful in this business. I have to preface all this by saying that I'm not an expert. A-Girl's been doing this for about two years and I worked in commercial production about 15 years ago. That's the extent of my limited experience.

Ok - here goes. Here are the things that I think have contributed to A-Girl's success:

1) She wants to do this. It has been her idea from the beginning. When she was about three, she started asking us when she was going to be on TV and when she'd get to be in magazines. We thought it was cute but we didn't really take it seriously. Having been in commercial production and not liking certain bullshit aspects of it, I was hesitant to try to get her into the business. It wasn't until she was about five and she still wanted to do it that we finally decided to take her to an agent that specializes in kids. She loves auditioning even when she doesn't get hired. She loves working. We have always told her that she can quit any time she wants.

2) She works hard and the whole family makes sacrifices. She memorizes and practices lines before auditions and jobs. She takes direction very well - directors like to work with her because she doesn't goof around a lot and get distracted like some kids. She has dealt with eight-hour work days without complaining and without losing her energy level. Big D and I have had to take time off of work in order to take her to jobs and auditions. Luckily our bosses have been understanding and flexible with us. Our babysitters have to be able to drive so they can take her places. Her younger sister has had to go to auditions with her on numerous occasions. My husband left his job in order to take her to Asia. I've compared it to having a child that is an Olympic hopeful - they simply can't do it without the whole family making sacrifices.

3) She can talk to anyone of any age about pretty much anything. She can walk into a room full of strangers and not be nervous (or at least not let her nerves get the best of her). She likes being the center of attention (which is not always a good thing). We sometimes call her the "black hole of attention" because when she's around, she has a way of getting most of the attention. There's something about her that draws people in. She's got lots of personality. She's cute but not gorgeous - she looks like a regular kid, approachable. One producer told me that she's met kids (particularly in L.A.) who, at six or seven, talk to her like they're "working the room." She told me that she likes A-Girl because A-Girl's a real kid who happens to be mature enough to do the work and isn't jaded by the business. (Let's hope it stays that way).

4) She's been lucky. A-Girl has a lot going for her and she works hard but being in the right place at the right time helps. There are tons of cute kids around. Most of the time, it depends on the "look" a director is seeking. It can also depend on which actors they get to play the "mom" and "dad" and "brother." If they hire a blond mom, A-Girl isn't going to get hired. Also, she ended up with the part in Sound of Music, we think, because another girl turned it down. It doesn't mean the other girl is more talented than A-Girl, although she might be. It may have been that the other girl has theater experience and A-Girl doesn't. It could be because the other girl was blond and shorter than A-Girl. In the end, A-Girl's going to Asia and getting the experience, in part, because she was lucky.

So - the things that I think are important for kids in the business is they have to want to do it, they can't be shy or cling to their parents, they need personality, they have to have someone who is willing and able to schlep them around to auditions and jobs and they have to be in the right place at the right time.

By the way, most people in the business will tell you that it's unnecessary to pay thousands of dollars for headshots and "classes" provided by the Barbizons of the world. (I feel like I have to say this because my sis-in-law almost did that with her kids before I talked her out of it). Get a reputable agent (preferably one that's SAG sanctioned) and decent photographs. I think we spent somewhere around $500 for A-Girl's first set of headshots. (That's about $300 for the sitting fee and the rest for printing fees). We didn't get new headshots until A-Girl could pay for them herself!

Doing commercials can be highly lucrative - especially national commercials. A regional commercial that runs for a long time can also be good - A-Girl did a Meijer's commercial about two years ago and it's still running. Catalog modeling does not pay well - it's generally $75 per hour, minus 10% agent fees. The few jobs she's done have only been one hour each. Once we went to the suburbs for a job - we won't do that again. Print modeling (i.e. magazines, billboards etc.) pays ok - there's no union and the agents generally take 20% because collecting the pay sometimes takes more work (because it's non-union) but it's ok. Voice-over work is great - it's fairly easy, the jobs generally take very little time and the pay is good, especially since the time commitment is small. Theater doesn't pay very well but most people in theater will tell you that they don't do it for the money. In the end, A-Girl's Asia tour will likely cost us more than she makes only because Big D's leaving his job. She does get paid, housing for her and Big D is covered and they get a sufficient stipend to pay for food. Mostly we're doing it for the experience, to help her career and because she's so happy doing it.

I struggle to make sure I don't get invested in A-Girl being in show business. I went to a theater camp for ten years. I love musical theater and almost went to college at Bennington to study dance. At one point, I wanted nothing more than to be a movie producer. But I chose a different path for my life and I'm happy with my choices. She has to choose her own path without feeling like I'm living vicariously through her. I try not to behave as if she is a reflection of me. She is her own person and her success is her own (although see point #2 above). I will admit, though, it's really cool seeing my kid on TV!

Warning - stage mother post!

Just thought I'd let you all know that the Elmer's Glue commercial that A-Girl did in March is finally playing. You'd know it if you saw it - it starts out with her "mom" having a flashback to the 70's remembering how she and her mother did crafts using Elmer's Glue. It jumps to the present where A-Girl asks the mom what she's thinking about and the mom says "I was just thinking that you can't go back to school without your Elmer's Glue" and then they talk about Elmer's new washable purple glue sticks. It's very cute. I know I'm biased, but I think A-Girl did a great job. Credit goes to the fabulous director, Karen Carter and the great teams at SBC Advertising and Elmer's Glue. They were all so great for A-Girl to work with.

(Yes, I know. I'm a disgusting, gushing stage mother but I'm really not brown-nosing. As far as I know, none of those people reads my blog and even if they did, what I say has absolutely no bearing on whether my kid gets hired. I just want my few readers to know that I realize that the cuteness of the ad is not all due to my darling daughter's talent - as fabulous as she is. Plus, I think Karen is great. She's also pretty much the only director that hasn't treated me like I'm a necessary evil on set. And I like that.)

It's hard to express what a thrill it is to see your daughter on television. The other cool thing is that on some channels, they've been playing the Elmer's commercial and her McDonald's commercial back to back. That's pretty cool for a seven year old.