Welcome to my crib...

The crib.  A seemingly normal household furniture item for those with babies.  Not in our house.  I co-sleep with my babies.  Please spare me your eye rolling, cringing expressions.  I am NOT--by any, ANY stretch--some crunchy granola, neo-hippy organic, berkenstock-wearing Earth mother.  Not by a LOOOOONGSHOT.  I'm just lazy--too lazy to formula feed and lug a bunch of crap around everywhere and too lazy to get up out of my warm cozy bed in the middle of the night to tend to a crying baby.  They move out when they're ready to make it through the night without me.  Or more specifically, without the boob.

I have a love/hate relationship with our crib.  We have had it for ten years now and it has gotten far less use than it probably should have in a house with three kids.  When Moo was a baby (and co-sleeping) I McGuyvered the crib to the bed by removing one side, raising it up on bricks to meet our pillow top mattress height, wedging pillows on the far side of the crib mattress so as not to lose the baby down "the crack," and strategically zip-tying it to the bed frame.  I loved the crib then.  Moo would fall asleep and I could shift her into the crib and she slept well in her own space there.  Of course, she was (and still is) my best sleeper.  Eventually she moved to a big-girl bed and we packed the crib away.  Enter Slim.

Slim is not a great sleeper and hasn't been since he was a newborn.  I McGuyvered the crib once more, but he would never sleep on his own in it.  I could never scooch him that far away from me and into his own space without him waking up in  minutes.  He slept best glued to my side all night.  After many months I gave up on the crib-as-sidecar setup and put the fourth side back on and tried to "sleep train" Slim.  This actually seemed to work for about a week until one night he screamed for 90 minutes straight.  Screamed.  We ended training and opted for peace and quiet.  And sleep.  Needless to say the love affair had ended.  I packed the crib away the next day.

And now we have The Geel.  Just turned eleven months and it's taken me until just two weeks ago to rearrange Moo's room to make room for the crib.  We don't have the space in our master bedroom for another round of McGuyvering so that was out of the question from the start.  I was so determined a year ago that this would be different.  She would be in her crib right away!  The Geel had other plans.  

She is by far my worst sleeper.  She would not sleep on her own at all and not for lack of trying.  I swaddled tightly, tried the Sleep Sheep, classical music.  Nothing worked.  She slept great--on me or daddy.  I slept many months with pillows propped under each arm so she didn't roll off of me in the middle of the night.  Daddy filled in for naps occasionally, but even those were not great.  She slept 20-30 minutes AT MOST.  This got a little better (30-40 minutes) around 5 or 6 months, but nothing to brag about.  

Did I mention that the majority of these naps took place ON me?  It made it impossible to DO anything.  I would have to wait until she was in a deep sleep--which, if she got there at all half the nap would be over by then.  Then I'd usually have to do some contortionist move to try and gently lay her down without waking her up.  I don't have any hard fast statistics about how successful I was at this, but suffice it to say that a 50% success rate would be generous.  If it did work I would hurriedly run around the house switching laundry (always!) or loading/unloading the dishwasher (in slow motion--don't want to make too much noise) or whatever else needed to be done at any given time. 

Now the crib is back.  First of all, Geel goes to daycare two days a week.  I know she naps there, although when I see nap from 11:00 am to 1:50 pm written on her little daily sheet, I wonder if they even know who my baby is.  The first two days of the "New World Order" were a little rough.  She didn't cry a whole lot (definitely no screaming--a great success by my measure) but she didn't sleep at all either--which left me with a zombie baby the rest of the afternoon.  

The third day she went to daycare.  I decided to grill the daycare women about technique and tried to get them to give up state secrets.  They told me they put her in her crib, cover her up, pop in the binky and she's off to la-la-land.  Sort of.  If she stands up and cries a little they lay her back down and pat her back.  Really?  I've seen that a million times on Supernanny.  I can handle that!

Day Four went rather smoothly.  She hardly cried at all and every time she stood up I just laid her back down (being super careful not to make eye contact or talk at all--Jo Frost would be proud!), covered her up, popped in the bink and after about 4 or 5 times she drifted of the sleep.  Day Five was even better!  Had to go back in ONCE and she was out in under four minutes!  Day Six got a little hairy.  I think I went in about 25 times.  Could be that she wasn't as tired as I thought or perhaps she was overtired.  Either way I was confident she would go down and she did eventually.  

So we still have a few bumps in the road.  It's just the beginning of this latest journey with the crib.  Obviously we don't want to rush things.  We wouldn't want to rush into anything too heavy--like putting her in there to sleep through the night.  For now, I'll take it slow, but I have to confess:  I think I'm falling in love again......

If you want to see how this story really ends, you might want to check out

Crib notes - Part One of The Crib Chronicles

More crib notes - Part Two of The Crib Chronicles 

Sleeping with the enemy. - Part Three of The Crib Chronicles and

The Thrill Is Gone--Part Four of The Crib Chronicles

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Author, Author!

I've always considered myself a writer.  In the evolution of my identity growing up, it is the one thing that has always been.  I definitely remember when I wanted to be a doctor, a lawyer, a bio-medical engineer, an actor.  I wanted to be a Mom.  I wanted to be childless.  I wanted to be a wife.  I wanted to remain single.  One thing I never "wanted to be" was a writer--because I just was.

Now, I have at times specifically wanted to be a novelist, a playwright, and I briefly flirted with the idea of journalism.  I imagined that I would write wonderful short stories for magazines and be "Published."  These specific writing jobs never materialized, and there really is no job title for someone who furiously scribbles poetic rants on napkins.

My past as a writer is immortalized in many notebooks (for some reason I was always drawn to steno notebooks) scraps of paper and napkins, backs of receipts and the like.  My present?  Wrapped up in my brain.  I write constantly--in my head.  If I had time to sit and write all of the things I ramble on about to myself, I'd truly do nothing else--but it mostly gets swallowed up in the churning whirlpool of daily life with three kids, a dog and a couple part-time jobs and laundry (it really is it's own job all by itself.)

When blogging became de rigueur, I wanted no parts of it.  Writing was such a private thing in so many ways.  Partly because it was so raw and partly because it was so melodramatic I'd be mortified if anyone read some of the things I wrote.  I roll my own eyes reading some of that crap!

The other problem was that I couldn't imagine that anyone would want to read what I wrote and I just didn't feel like putting myself out there for that kind of rejection.  I think writers are like stand-up comedians in so many ways.  The best material is the crappy things in life, and we crave the attention of an audience so badly it overshadows the fact that we should probably be embarrassed like normal people.

So basically I'm doing this for the attention.  Well, not really, but kinda.  I always did like people to read what I wrote and I always appreciate feedback and constructive criticism.  I'll take Simon over Paula any day.  Tell me what sucks and maybe how you would fix it--don't get sloshed, read my shit and tell me my outfit looks good.

My biggest problem is that sometimes it takes me forever.  Who has time for this every day?  I don't like to read many blogs but I do enjoy a good "Punch" from Jen.  She's funny and it seems effortless.  (And she's courting minivan manufacturers.)  I want to be her.  Not in a Jennifer Jason Leigh Single White Female kind of way.  More like a "I-have-time-to-sit-down-with-my-thoughts-and-write-something-funny/entertaining/thought provoking-today" kind of way.

I keep promising myself that I will take more time, make more time, to sit down and do this more often.  (Which shouldn't be difficult considering that I average less than one post per month.)  So what, if anything, does this have to do with my super parenting?  Nothing really, except I will brag that both of my literate kids are excellent writers.  Or maybe I need to change the name of my blog.

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PULL UP!

Rules for Drop-off/Pick-up at school:

1.  Pull up.

2.  Pull ALL THE WAY up.  To the front of the line, the beginning of the cones, the end of the curb, wherever is the farthest point at which you can pull up.

3.  If your child needs more help than a few encouraging words; park your car, help your kid out and walk him/her up to the door.  Getting out of your car and running around to the other side and giving me some exasperated eye roll as if little Jimmy never needs this much help at home, does not make me feel sorry for you.  It only stokes my drop-off rage.  I know my kids well enough to know how much help they need getting in and out of a car.  Slim is called Slim for a reason, and car doors are not his specialty.  (Thank God for the automatic minivan side doors.  I used to scoff at people who had these--back when I owned a minivan that didn't even have a driver's side slider or automatic anything.  I scoffed.  Until Slim started Kindergarten.)

4.  Don't get out of your vehicle.  See above.  If you are out of your vehicle, you cannot possibly pull up.  Do not ask the drop-off/pick-up adult where your kid is.  The other day some lady (who didn't even pull all the way up!) got out of her vehicle with a note in her hand and was trying to flag down the lone adult out there, saying something about she was a friend of Joey's mom and she was supposed to pick him up.  This was wrong on SO many levels.  First of all, whoever sent her obviously didn't give her the lowdown on procedure, but that is minor considering the rest of her transgressions.  Why would you jump out of your car (one in a long line) in the middle of school dismissal and try and introduce yourself to your coworker/friend's son and the random adult supervising pick-up that day (who may or may not know Joey any better than you do)?  From the way she was trying to introduce herself to "Joey" it didn't seem he knew her very well.  Why wouldn't she go into the office and explain the situation to school staff?  Or hopefully the kid's mother had the sense to call the school and the kid had the sense to get proof before traipsing off with a stranger.  Of course this prompted a grilling session with Moo on the way home:  What would you have done if someone approached you and said that?  Would you go with them?  Would you go back into the school?.........

5.  If you think you've pulled up enough, try another car-length or two.  I'm not sure I can say it better than I did in September on my Facebook status:

Wow! Even at intermediate school people can't handle the drop-off. Here's a few clues for you: 1. Those things dangling from your kid's butt? They're called legs, and they are meant to be walked on. So, you can 2. PULL UP! In case you haven't noticed you are not the only person dropping off your child. If you pull up, several of us can let our kids out at the same time and keep the line moving. I know these are radical ideas for some of you, but change can be good. Keep an open mind. Thanks. 

I just get totally bent by people who think their kids are too good to walk a few extra steps.  Junior does not need to get out exactly in front of the doors, or exactly at the dip in the curb.  And if you think Sally shouldn't have to walk a little more to get inside, she probably needs to walk a little more.  More likely, you should park your car and walk her up because I'm sure you could use the exercise too.  (God forbid if it's raining.)  And it just seems that so many people do not understand the concept that they are not the only ones dropping their kids off.  The more you pull up, the more of us that can let our kids out and the less time this whole process takes. There is a great big world around you with other people in it.  We, too, are trying to get to work, drop off our other kid, get to the grocery store, hurry home and Facebook, etc.

6.  Follow the line.  Don't drive around anyone for obvious safety reasons.  Slim's school (the elementary) recently changed the drop-off route.  We have to drive around the little back parking lot before turning into the actual drop-off lane.  Basically it's like a giant figure eight on acid.  It really is helpful in relieving traffic on the street which was the intention in changing it, but some people can't seem to handle the change or they are just too good to wait in the line before they can peel wheels out of the lot and be on their way.  They park their cars, walk up to get their kid and then rush back to their cars and try and get out before the line backs up.  Hurry up and wait.  Makes sense to me.
(Of course the exception to this rule is at the Intermediate drop-off lane which is a huge "U" that is super wide.  Here they have a few cones arranged in a bottleneck at the inside curve to prevent assholes from jumping the line and running anyone over, but past the bottleneck you have to PULL UP [tada!] so that any cars behind you CAN go around.  Especially at pick-up, since even though you may be near the front of the line, your child may not be the first one out of the school and into your car.)

7.  PULL THE HELL UP!   Every day I marvel that we are so much closer to the end of the year and yet still so far from smoothing the wrinkles out.  At the Intermediate school (4th and 5th grades in our town) haven't most of us been doing this for five or six years now?  People spend less time than this getting college degrees and we can't master a giant left turn with traffic cones and a complete stop in the middle.


So if you haven't surmised, I have a secret desire to be the drop-off/pick-up nazi, yelling at everyone to pull up and making sure nobody pulls into the lane without driving around first.  And heaven help you if you send Grandma to pick the kids up.  You better send her in with a diagram, a map, a GPS and a copy of these rules.

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...our new "normal"......

five weeks later....

NO, not another round, but we are still hearing stories of "random" lice checks on kids. Now, to my knowledge they only check classrooms with a suspected/confirmed case of head lice, so this just tells me that its still making its way around the school, AND every parent we talk to and explain our story is surprised that they had no knowledge of ANY cases. 

Some parents aren't even aware that their children are being checked in school (if the kids dont't mention it, then how would they?)  Just another reason why it's SO IMPORTANT to communicate so that concerned parents can double-check their children at home.  We already know that one girl in our neighborhood who got it the same week as Moo was checked at school where "nothing was found" only to come home and have live adults found by her mother.

Again, I realize that the school nurses cannot check heads all day, every day, but isn't that just more reason to make parents AWARE, so that they can treat their children and homes and curb the spread?  I'm still checking my kids' heads every day--just to be safe.  Welcome to our new normal.  The thought of it irritates me, but the thought of another round of de-lousing the house is far worse.

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And now you know.

Write what you know.  It's the first rule of writing.  Seems sensible enough.  You won't find me writing about brain surgery or auto manufacturing or gardening or the Peace Corps.  


What I do know a little about is motherhood and parenting and very many things that inform such a "vocation."  I have learned a lot about things like disposable diapers, cradle cap,  stuffed animals, crayons, and Legos.  My most recent educational adventure?  Head lice. I know, your head's itching already.  

Hate to say it, but I've learned more than I ever wanted to know about head lice. Six weeks ago we found them on Moo and Slim.  Slim had a few, Moo had a lot.  A LOT.  It was bad.  Needless to say, we sprung into action immediately and declared war.  Three minutes online was enough education to get things started.  Bagging, stripping beds, running to the drugstore for shampoo and spray--the single longest drive in my life.  As my husband started turning our house upside down, I began calling people.  Anyone and everyone we could think of that had been in recent close contact with our children.  And honestly I wasn't so much embarrassed as I was incredulous.  Days before I had watched The Switch (with the head lice scene) and had thought that I felt lucky to have not had to deal with that one.  Yet.  


So we call the schools (Elementary and Intermediate) and inform all the necessary parties there.  They assure us that they will check the other kids in the classroom and we went about several days of cleaning, vacuuming, washing, spraying, shampooing, showering and nitpicking (repeatedly repeatedly).  We sprayed things we could not launder, we bagged things we couldn't spray, we threw away all of our bed pillows and bought new ones (AND taped the plastic bags on them and slept with plastic under our pillowcases for a week afterwards) all in the name of eradication, elimination and prevention.  Poor Moo had more chemicals on her head in the first 2 hours than Dow distributes in a week.  I had treated her twice before the family doctor suggested that the chemicals were neurotoxins and may take time to kill all the live bugs I was continuing to find after the first two treatments.


Thankfully we found none on me, my husband or Little Geel (the eight-month-old), but of course that did not preclude us from treatment--except the baby.  Thankfully my husband maintains a buzz cut for the military, I am constantly scanning my head for gray hairs and I spend 75% of my time with the baby staring at her head, so vigilance on us is easy to maintain.  My son opted for the clippers and we took about three inches off my daughter's hair.  Extreme?  Maybe.  But it was a compromise between continuing to nitpick her longish hair and buzzing her head (which was her first request).  And it's just hair and it'll grow back.  Probably faster than my sanity is going to return.


We were informed that it was school policy to keep the kids home until they were nit-free.  We happily complied and felt it was our duty not to expose anyone else to this nightmare.  The school informed us that they checked all the kids in our children's classrooms and that no other cases were found.  Hhmmmm?  Okay, I guess anything's possible, but my daughter had SO MANY live bugs and HUNDREDS of nits in her hair, that I find it very hard to believe that by Wednesday evening (the night we found out) she hadn't come into close enough contact with any other kid that would not have gotten it.  No one.  Well, good for them, I guess.  


All through this we can't quite figure out where she would have gotten them from.  They certainly did not spontaneously generate in our home.  We "strongly suspect" a case of shared earmuffs (which were covered in them, and have been thrown away--sadly, since they were brand new) but that is absolutely beside the point.  You never really know where they start and they are always "around."  We assumed (wrongly) there may be a letter put out by the school, just as a precaution, so that other parents may be aware and check they're kids at home and help keep down the spread.  


We continued our vigilance at home and our kids were back to school after two days out and a three day weekend spent in our cycle of bed-stripping, laundering, nitpicking and a second round of shampoo treatments for all.  (Recommended 7-9 days after the first, just in case you miss a nit and it hatches.)  We continued to check our kids heads through the following week just in case.  Probably by the following weekend we were satisfied that our kids were safe and things were settling back into normal life--minus the plastic bags on our pillows and the several bags of items we were still going through while getting back to our usual cleaning and laundry routines.  

Now may be a good time to go over a few facts I've learned about our friend pediculus humanus capitis:

• Having head lice is not a cleanliness issue.
• Head lice do not carry diseases.
• Lice do not hop or fly and therefore are spread mainly through head-to-head contact or sharing of infested clothing/hats/scarves/etc.
• Eggs (nits) DO NOT travel. They remain attached to the hair shaft.  If hair falls off the head with an attached nit that hatches, it must find a human host within 24-48 hours or it will die.
• Head lice can only live 24-48 hours off a human host, but can live up to 30 days ON a human host and can lay up to 100 eggs in their life cycle.
• Nits take 7-10 days to hatch, females take 7-10 days to mature enough to lay eggs.
• Nit removal (both from the head and through laundering clothing and vacuuming areas of the home) is THE KEY to shutting down the cycle.

Having learned all that and having followed through exhaustively on all procedures weeks ago, it was quite a surprise to discover last Tuesday morning that Moo had nits AGAIN.  Yeah, Happy Valentine's Day.  Seriously?  Five weeks later?  Scenes from Silkwood are running through my head.  I'm pretty sure we sat for about an hour and did nothing this second time.  I'm pretty sure both I and my husband were in some state of shock.  Eventually we restart "the machine"--shampooing heads, stripping beds, bagging and tagging, busting out the vacuum, and buying more spray.  

Thankfully we must have caught it early this time.  Moo is the only victim, but there are very few nits and no live adults.  Not-so-thankfully I realize that she just had a sleepover here Friday night and both of my kids had gone to a birthday party Sunday.  Cue the phone calls.  

You may suspect that two cases of head lice inside six weeks would be pretty harrowing--and you'd be right--but what we found even more disturbing is our school district's seeming lack of concern.  As I said before, cases of head lice are always "around."  It's probably damn near impossible to totally eradicate it in any given population so one would assume that AWARENESS might be helpful in keeping the numbers down.  Everyone we spoke with said they that would want to know if a kid in their child's school had head lice.  

If you're not in the bathroom checking your head yet, here are some of the alarming things we discovered after many conversations with different people.  I'll try to recap as best I can.

From different members within the school district:

• We can't inform parents due to HIPAA laws.  Untrue--see this link. (Thanks, Noel) And really, we're not asking them to name names.
• Making parents aware was not a good idea because all the parents would panic, and there would be a run on lice shampoo and everyone would shampoo their kids "creating immunity."  Probably not likely and definitely untrue.
• Putting out a letter is pointless because parents won't read it anyway.  You can't fix everything, so do nothing?  Truth is, some people won't read it, but many will.
• We do more than other school districts do.  Who apparently have NO "no nit" policy and allow affected kids to be in school regardless of the condition.
• We are concerned about unnecessary absences.
• It's not a public health issue so we can't do anything about it. Technically, it's not--because lice don't carry diseases--it's really just a nuisance pest.

From other parents:

• Our doctor just assumed the school sent out letters. Even doctors think this is sound practice, and that doctor noted that these things need to be controlled in the home to keep down the spread.
• We heard of a case three months ago.  (Kid on our bus.)  You mean BEFORE my daughter's first case?  Wowzers!  You think AWARENESS might have helped us out? 
• My daughter (a girl in our neighborhood, who also rides our bus) just got it last week! EXACTLY when Moo picked it up a second time.  Again, AWARENESS, anyone?
• The friend of the girl above has it too.  That's three cases in the same couple of days.  Four if you include one of my daughter's sleepover guests, who likely got it from Moo.

Look, I understand that the school can't fight this all day, every day, but that's kind of our point.  Make parents aware.  Get them involved in keeping this at bay.  And I also understand that people are embarrassed, but that's just one more reason to get some facts out there.  Educate people.  (We heard so much misinformation from people we spoke with.)  So ALL we want now is some awareness.  When cold and flu season comes around we get reminders from the school to "wash hands frequently" and "sneeze into our elbows."  Why can't we just make people aware:  here are some facts; here are some suggestions; here's where you can get more information.  

My husband called the superintendent's office several times and is trying to whip the neighbors into a frenzy but I don't know how many of them will follow through.  I have considered starting a petition but I just can't gauge how much interest is out there.  Most parents don't care until they have to deal with it.  A lot of our neighbors seemed angry since our kids are all in such close quarters on the bus, but I don't know how many of them will keep up the concern unless and until they have to fight it in their own homes.  

Hell, I'm exhausted (and my exhaustion can't even touch my husband's--who's done most of the heavy lifting when it comes to cleaning the house.  I owe you, big time, babe) and just cautiously glad it seems to be over now.  Again.  But I could almost cry at the thought of it coming back.  Seriously, if we have deal with this one more time we may just torch the house--it would be easier.  (That's a joke, Liberty Mutual.)


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Update:  I spoke with one of the school administrators yesterday and she seemed very agreeable about an "awareness" letter or flyer.  We'll see......I'll keep you posted.

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Super Mom.

So strangely (or coincidentally) enough after my last post a friend sends out an email that the community theater in the next town is holding open auditions that night at 6:30 for their Christmas play.  No preparation, no experience necessary.  They are looking for adults and about 30 kids. I got the email while at the park with the kids......

That day I wanted to be the mom who got her ass off the couch and took her kids to the park, laundry-be-damned!  Although since the baby fell asleep and all I really did was push her stroller in circles while Moo and Slim played, I decided to try and be productive at the same time and check my email.  So it's roughly 4:20 pm and I am trying to decide if I should even suggest such a thing to my kids.  I'm pretty sure they will be up for it, but will I?

The kids are done and on the way home I go for it:

"Do you guys want to go try out for a play?"  

"YEAH!" (imagine 72 point font....)

So, home for a few pieces of leftover pizza then we're off to the "Theataaahh.".  A fifteen minute ride and an endless stream of questions later we are raring to go.  The kids did a good job and had an okay time.  I tried to explain some things to them without raising false hope or killing the experience.  They understand that it can be fun and rewarding but that there is also hard work involved.  But all of that is kind of beside the point.

The most important thing to me is that I did it at all.  Usually I would read an email like that and think that it's just too late; we missed the boat; there's no way I can get them home, feed them and get there in time.  But I didn't this time.   Not only was I already at the park that day, I then made an impromptu trip to an audition!  How cool am I?  I mean, I know other moms out there do this sort of thing every day.  Do I need to pat myself on the back over this?  Not really, but I will anyway.  I got my kids off to school without my husband's help, I worked at my part-time job, ran some errands, took my kids to the park, fed them dinner and took them to an audition.  For one day, I felt like Super Mom.

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I digress...and digress.....

This post is not necessarily about parenting or motherhood, or my newborn.  Just something that weighs on my mind periodically.

Amy, me and Jen

 I was a theater major in college.  A sure sign of not knowing myself well enough at all.  I knew that I truly loved the craft--everything about it; and I went to a small enough college that I was afforded the opportunity to both act and design.

Matt, K.Lee and Gina

I learned enough about it to understand that it wasn't a dumbed down choice.  The theater arts are incredibly demanding and time-consuming, requiring the "practice" and preparation of sports athletes along with the studiousness of scholars--and can be just as physically and mentally taxing as each, usually at the same time.  (I still marvel at how I functioned in those several years:  working nearly full time, commuting 45 minutes to and from school, taking a full course load and going to rehearsal four or five nights a week until 10 or 11 pm.  Not to mention going to a club two to four nights a week.)

Me and Steve in The Crucible

What I didn't know was that I wasn't the kind of person who could make a good living at it. Not because I wasn't good at it, but because I was not ambitious enough (or confident enough) to go "pound the pavement" in the city.  Also I didn't have any experience waitressing.  But seriously so many of my "old theater friends" (as I fondly remember them) still do it.  They are actors, and teachers, or even serious "hobbyists" (for lack of a better word) who still practice the craft which is their livelihood, or the subject of it, or at least a part of their lives.  The best I have done lately is to bring my kids to a series of small, local original children's theater productions done at the University in town.  And I'm not knocking that at all, I'm kind of knocking myself for not being more involved in something I truly love but have never made the time for in years.

The Room and the World (Stockton)

Me and Wavey Davey (ACC)

I did think there was a place for it in my life at one time, even after my "real life" as a mom began.  My last serious foray into theater was nine years ago when Moo was a baby and I trudged up to stay at a friend's place in Hoboken.  Lugged my 7-month-old and her stroller and "stuff" (which was probably considerable since she was my first baby and as every first-time mother knows, you can never be over-prepared for ANY eventuality) onto a bus into New York City to do the lighting for a one-man show off off Broadway.  The show was pretty successful as I remember, although I wasn't afforded the opportunity to move with it to a larger theater as I'm sure the director was probably not impressed with my tiny assistant who cried, chewed on the lighting gels and needed to be nursed every so often in the middle of the actual work I was trying to accomplish on the production.  I clearly remember at one point being at the top of a ladder working while she toppled over and hit her head on the stage.  Good times.

Hypolita from Midsummer

Me and Dan

It also pains me to even write this, but I let one of the director's students (she was a professor somewhere) whom she brought along as childcare, take my infant out for walks in the city and to a nearby playground.  The fact that she was a literal stranger still haunts me.  Possibly starving college student, quite likely short on cash?  I'm lucky Moo wasn't sold to the first bidder.  I still can't figure out why I trusted the whole set-up.  I'd like to think my mother's instinct assured me that my baby was safe.  It's more likely that my desperation to prove that I could get the job done overrode my better judgement, or at least overrode my super-anal, overprotective-new-mother-ness.  Needless to say, my daughter was and is fine.  A thriving almost-ten-year-old with her own brand of drama; she can practically cry on cue.

Mauricio

Marissa

So it seems in this digressive post, I have digressed from my digression from parenting into parenting.  Kind of.  And if that made any sense to you at all, you must have a school-aged child who talks in circles to you daily.  However, I did have a point in my original topic.  As I remember growing up, I don't recall having anything I was particularly passionate about.  I was a straight-A student, I wasn't athletic but did try softball and tennis, I dabbled in Girl Scouts for a few years, I loved art and drawing as hobbies.  I was an elementary Jill of many trades, mistress of none.

with Larry (GCSDW summer theater) 

GCSDW

I often think about my path into theater because it was the first time I found something that I truly loved, and not from a child's perspective.  It was hard work yet I still loved it.  I hope that my children find something that they love and are passionate enough about to pursue, that won't someday look back upon as a digression of sorts.

almost a princess (BLT)

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