Monday, May 30, 2005

The inevitable has happened.

The girl awoke in the middle of the night to see the unthinkable. Her parents having sex. Of course, it was one in the morning, I'd come home from a few (okay, 5) drinks and was careless and left the door open. Small girl is right across the hall. Jer sees some shifting of blankets across the hall, and nods that way. So we settle in, have a laugh, snug a bit and go to bed. She was just readjusting the covers in her sleep and settling back in, right? No big.

Actually, she also thought it was no big, apparently.

Where I hear most kids are confused, don't know what they've seen, perhaps even a bit frightened? Not mine.

She waits a whole hour in the morning before saying, nonchalantly:

"I saw you and dad having sex last night."


But I did the right and recommended immediate non-reactive "How do you know what that was, honey?"

"Because you were naked, mom."

Matter of fact and to the point is my girl. I don't need to ask how she knows the actual phrase "having sex". I'm putting my money on having watched one too many "Buffys" with me.

Rut Roh.

Monday, May 23, 2005

Post show hangover

Well, the show is done. We received rave reviews, and I had so many wonderful friends turn out to see it. At least a few people were out there at each show to cheer me on. Including the Slacker, Crunchy thoughts boy and Maybe Mental (click off to the right), my awesome sister in law, an ex boyfriend, and a Pentacostal. :) All enjoyed it thoroughly.

The weird ass comment of the show goes to Matt's (who plays the rapist ex husband) mother. At intermission, she stated to our stage manager that this show makes her want to "go out and kidnap more girls" so they won't have abortions. And after the show? She comes up to me and says "There's the girl who killed my son's baby"!

Who the fuck says that shit and means it? Scary, man.

Friday, May 13, 2005

She saves me every day

Driving home from school yesterday, the song "In My Daughter's Eyes" comes on the radio. Ever since they cancelled the 80's station, country is about all you get here.

Now I cry every.time.I hear this song. So I glance in the rearview mirror and see this little blonde person, pigtails that she put in herself askew, smiling out the window at some new happiness seen only by her, face shining in the sunlight. That's all it come the big fat girlie girl tears.

"Why are you crying, mommy?"

"This singer is singing about her daughter. It makes me think of you, so I cry a bit when I hear it. Very happy tears, don't worry, I'm fine."

So she listens intently to the lyrics for a moment. We then hear "...But the truth is plain to see, she was sent to rescue me..."

"Mommy, how can a little bitty girl actually save a grownup?"

You can't begin to know, baby girl. You can't begin to imagine.

~In My Daughter's Eyes, by James Slater~

In my daughter's eyes I am a hero
I am strong and wise and I know no fear
But the truth is plain to see
She was sent to rescue me
I see who I wanna be
In my daughter's eyes

In my daughter's eyes everyone is equal
Darkness turns to light and the
world is at peace
This miracle God gave to me gives me
strength when I am weak
I find reason to believe
In my daughter's eyes

And when she wraps her hand
around my finger
Oh it puts a smile in my heart
Everything becomes a little clearer
I realize what life is all about

It's hangin' on when your heart
has had enough
It's giving more when you feel like giving up
I've seen the light
It's in my daughter's eyes

In my daughter's eyes I can see the future
A reflection of who I am and what will be
Though she'll grow and someday leave
Maybe raise a family
When I'm gone I hope you see how happy
she made me
For I'll be there
In my daughter's eyes

Thursday, May 12, 2005

My first review is in!

This is horn-tooting at its finest, folks. But I don't care. I got a good review. :)

The show opens officially tomorrow night. If you're in our neck of the woods, come on down.

~Review from the Indianapolis Callboard listserv, by Julie Powers, board moderator~

"Keeley and Du", by Jane Martin, is not an easy show to see, but you SHOULD GO. Opening tomorrow at the Wheeler Arts Center, it has a fantastic cast and lives up to the ideal of "theatre as catharsis". When Jen Henry and John Mercer are your bit players, you know you have a cast to reckon with. And I left sobbing . . . yeah, I know that doesn't sound like the most "fun" thing to sandwich in between dinner and drinks on a Saturday night, but it would be a shame to miss the work of the two leads-Angela Steele as Keeley and Elise Le Bruin as Du.

Angela's performance had me teary by the 3rd scene, and put me in mind of the sort of performance that gets Oscar nods-pretty actress going "ugly" for the sake of drama. I have always loved Angela on stage. I think she's lovely, earthy and honest. That is no different here. She becomes Keeley-I never felt "look at Angela do that" but felt for the situation of the character. She is handcuffed to the bed through most of the show, in a hospital gown, lank hair, no makeup. She also spends a lot of time not speaking, but her face tells her story, her eyes blaze. She is a woman wrung out, on the edge, and I was right there with her. It's an amazing feat of acting, please, PLEASE don't miss it.

Elise plays Du. When you see her picture in the program, she looks about 12, and Du is supposed to be a grandmother in her 60s. Once you get about 2 scenes in, though, you completely buy this young girl as a "big momma". I really liked the choice to play Du as a black woman. It doesn't specify race in the script, and I think the role tends to be cast white. Still, Elise nails it-the voice, the inflection, the physicality, the intentions. I've never seen her before, but hope to again, she's marvelous. The chemistry between the women is touching and real.

Alan Shepard is completely effective as the religious zealot Walter, I had to refrain on more than one occasion from winging my water bottle at his head. He is utterly convincing, because I totally hated him, and I hear he's actually a very sweet guy.

Matt Graber is fine as Cole . . . physically right for the role, he shows up in a pivotal scene, but I felt of all the characters that he was the least engaging. He has a hefty monologue trying to convince Keeley to take him back, but I wanted to see more levels/tactics from him. It was a little one note, but gave the impression (that may have been intentional) that Cole wasn't very bright. The slight southern drawl and the white socks with the black pants probably also added to that impression.

Jen and John don't have much to do, but I thought that Jen was as effective as a butch prison guard as a delicate ingenue, so that was fun.

The set, lights and costumes are all well done. A slight sound glitch at the end (but it WAS preview, it'll probably be a moot point by tomorrow) and an audience member falling off the back riser were the only disruptions to the show. Like "Our Country's Good", "Keeley and Du" is really episodic, with 18 short scenes, one only about 30 seconds long, so it can feel like you're sitting in the dark a lot at the beginning, but after a few scenes, it didn't bother me.

Scot Greenwell is a really strong director. If you've not worked with him yet, you should. He does things that aren't your typical fare, but his shows are always professionally done, and he gets the best out of his actors. Nothing here is gory or over the top, it's just real, gut level stuff.

Yes, the central issue of the play is abortion, but there is SO much more there. There is a rich exploration of the relationship between these 2 women, about gender relations in our society-actually, the gender thing struck me particularly tonight-about domestic violence. (And on an important side note, a portion of the proceeds of the show are going to the Julian Center) It touches on the conflicting issues involved in being a parent, another thing that many people will relate to.

Go see this to think, to be moved, to see some really fine acting. It's not easy, but it is worth it.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

Why can't everyone get it?

So, DQP and I were watching Friends on TV the other night. And someone makes a "Joey and Chandler are gay" joke. She looks at me and says "Mommy? What's "gay" mean?"

No, I am about as Gay friendly as you can be without actually BEING gay. I am a stage actor, for cry eye. Ellie has an "Auntie Jason", and if I'm a Fag Hag, she's destined to become what I understand is the new euphemism: a Fairy Princess.

So I am down with the homosexuals. But how do you explain it to a five year old without *overexplaining*?

I ended up with something along the lines of "it's when two men, or two women, love each other like mommy and daddy love each other. They are a couple." How hard is it to not follow that up with "Not that there's anything WRONG with that"? But I left it at that.

DQP took all of five seconds to think about it.

"Oh, you mean like Willow and Tara are gay. Okay."

And back to playing.

Lesson over for today, mama-san.

Friday, May 06, 2005

OH yeah, baby, I'm posting at midnight!

Because I had a KICK ASS rehearsal.

And I am going to see my family this weekend.

And I am going to eat tons of the Wee Prince's coconut sour cream birthday cake that I made (thanks to my friend Kelley...see link to right)

And my show opens in exactly one week and it's going to be incredible.

Also, I'm a little drunk.

Thursday, May 05, 2005

The Prince is officially ONE

Zach is One

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Exactly one year ago

I was sitting in a Ben and Jerry's with the Princess, mostly enjoying my waffle cone of Oatmeal Cookie Chunk and Dublin Mudslide. I say mostly, because I was also having contractions. I had come from my 40 week OB appointment, where the doc had stripped the membranes and said "I'll see you tonight at the hospital". I thought he was kidding until I had a contraction that doubled me over on the way out to the car.

I picked up the DQP at school and decided to take her out for ice cream. Her last stand as an only child, and her last trip out with her mommy before we became a family of four.

After ice cream and a call to Daddy to come home directly after work, we packed up, went to my friend Kendra's house, and hung out for a few hours, watching Friends DVDs until I couldn't stand the pains anymore. Call the hospital and was told two things:

We have no beds right now, and

You really don't sound like you're in *that* much pain...could you call back in an hour??

So another hour we sit. Finally, I called and said "This is my second child. Whether you have a bed or not, he's coming, sooner than later. Better your hospital waiting area than the front seat of my car".

And we were off. Check in, wait around, get an epidural, watch some stupid Asian game show on Spike TV while Jer sleeps in the big chair in the corner. This is nothing like the first baby...anticipation, worry, excitement, nerves, a bit of wailing.

No, this time it is peaceful. Quiet. Comfortable. Almost bothersome, the waiting. I wanted desperately to get to that pushing part. Pain? Who cares? I know I can do it...I'm She Ra, dammit. He's on his way, we've waited ten whole months to meet him, so get here already so I can hold you.

Less than 20 minutes of pushing, and the Wee Prince enters our lives at 3:16 am on May 4, 2004. He's whisked away for major suctioning, as there was a meconium issue I'd rather not describe, but I finished my work quickly and quietly, without undue damage or repair. Jer is over at the baby table, watching silently.

Then it dawned on me...there was no talking from the moment he arrived. I hollered over: "It *is* a boy, right?" I was assured that he was indeed with boy parts. Whew. Then I asked my husband who he looked like.

"Grampa B. Or Uncle Don. I'm not sure."

Turns out he just looked like a wrinkly old guy, more like a sharpei than a human baby. But they bring him to me, swaddled, with eyes so puffy I wondered aloud if he had eyelashes. I was also concerned about his bottom lip, as he'd sucked the whole thing in, impatient to get going on the eating.

Honestly, in a year, much hasn't changed. He still lives to eat, and is impatient as anything, especially if you're withholding the grub. He's stealthy and quick. But so beautiful that when he enters a room, all talking ceases. He's smoothed out considerably, and no longer resembles neither puppy nor geriatric. And he does indeed have the longest, most beautiful eyelashes. Fluttering above heart melting eyes that could have only come from his father.

My little prince. My last little baby. The one I'd never pictured having, yet realize now I'd waited my entire life to meet. My son. Happy Birthday, baby.

Monday, May 02, 2005

Do I bother asking... one gets poop on her bedsheets? I mean, I get that whole "sometimes you just don't wipe accurately" thing. But how exactly do we get to the bedsheets. one manages to hide this fact until I go to read a bedtime story, pull back the sheets (the ones she's already laying comfortably in), and THEN is discovered? a five year old knows to LIE and say it's chocolate? it is that I get saddled with sheet laundry duty EVERY.DAMN.TIME?

Nah. I'm not going to bother answering these questions. It will just piss me off more.