Toilet -Tub, What's the Difference?

I am drained right now. Potty training sucks. And the only one trained around here is me. I am trained to watch the clock obsessively and put him on the potty to pee. And if I am busy at work and forget to do the post-nap pee pee like today, he pees all over the carpet at the Palace. He doesn't tell me he needs to go. He tells me when he is going. "I'm going pee pee!" He cried to the lobby full of customers. Actually there weren't any customers in the lobby at the time. I just though it made the sentence sound much better to say there were. There was only one grandmotherly volunteer who wisely kept her comments to herself and only smirked a little bit as I held the peeing child over the trash bin in my office. Sigh.

This evening we had more potty fun as I cajoled and bribed the child into squeezing out a miserly turd into the potty. I have resorted to bribing him with premium bath products. I have a small baggie of pink and white bath 'confetti; from a pampering gift set I got a while back. And after sitting in the bathroom with the boy on the potty complaining and getting nowhere for 10 minutes, I pulled out the baggie and desperately offered him some for his bath if only he would poop. And lo and behold his little face turned red as he went for it. And stunk up the bathroom with one measly turd.

I have also resorted to the time-honored sticker chart. One sticker per poop in the potty. When he fills the chart we go to the toy store for a new car. So after his little poop, I put him in the bath. Where after a few minutes in perfumed, high-end bath confetti water he produced a monumental bowel movement. Into the bath water. Sigh. Which made him think he could put another poop sticker on the chart.

He doesn't get the sticker chart. He gets that we go to the store when he fills the chart, but it made him really unhappy that he can't simply take the page of stickers and put them on the chart and off we go. He had an emotional breakdown because he couldn't add stickers and go to the store. Man. I am tired.

I have my MRI in the morning. My mom will be here to drive me and watch Jackson. hopefully the Ativan keeps me from flipping out from the feeling of being put in a coffin and the MRI shows a normal brain of above average intelligence. Or genius. A monumental brain of overwhelming genius.

Two pool parties - no sunburns!

Friends with pools are some of the best friends to have. We spent some quality time in a couple of different pools this holiday weekend. Jackson has become something of a little fish with his new swimmies. He quickly go the hang of them and floated around in the water and even managed to steer himself a little bit.

On the fourth we were at Kyle and Dave's house and Jackson fell in love with the hot tub. He called it a hot pool or the little pool. Said they made it just for him to swim in. He floated in the middle while the adults sat around the sides and snacked and sipped cocktails. Nice time. He was a pretty good boy. He does well at parties most of the time. Especially parties with pools and/or hot tubs.

He also got to watch some fireworks for the first time. He was impressed with the big colorful ones. But we were all disappointed with the sparklers. We have decided the new fancy paper sparklers that are supposed to be so much better than the old metal-looking sparklers are really kinda sucky. They light faster, but don't stay lit. And halfway through they start spitting hot sparks and we all got a little burned. David was holding Jackson and their sparkler went a little nuts and got sparks on Jackson sandaled foot and burned-slash-scared him pretty good. Next year we are getting the old school sparklers that work and don't burn you easily.

This afternoon David's cast had a little get-together at Renee and Andy's place. They also have a pool. We were afraid Jackson would be upset that they hadn't built a little hot pool just for him. But this pool has a cool waterfall so he was quite happy to swim around till his lips were blue and his shivering was comical. "Do you want to get out Jackson?" "Nnnn...nnn...nnoooooooo..." Very cute.

My head continues to be a bother, with the pulsing crappy headache hanging out back there making me a short-tempered complainer. Hopefully my medicine will come in the mail in the next few days. I am so cheap, I decided to suffer and do the prescription mail-order since I could get three months free. Prescription drug sale - what will they think of next? But it leaves me cranky and waiting. And waiting.

My crankiness makes me interested in the true-crime shows on tv. When I am feeling crappy I tend to tune into shows like I am watching now - Snapped, on oxygen network. Snapped profiles women who kill their husbands. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing but contempt for people who are so self-centered they kill their spouses instead of saying, "hey, ya know what? I don't want to be married to you anymore." But I get this morbid fascination with these shows and others like it. What the hell is wrong with people? How can you love someone and then feed them arsenic, watching as they get sick and die. I don't get it. But watching shit like that makes me feel good about my life. Yeah, I married young and divorced young. Yeah, there were problems. But we are both still alive and have nothing but good wishes for the other. Shit, I recently met his wife and had a nice afternoon with her. There isn't any reason to be anything but kind to one another.

Course these cases I see generally involve money and property or kids. If a divorce costs you your lifestyle and that lifestyle is how you define yourself as a person...and you're a sociopath...perhaps divorce isn't an option in your world. I can't imagine a world in which I would ever wish harm on the father of my child. How can you love your child and then purposefully deprive him of his mommy or daddy?

I am just grateful to be in a good marriage that has survived the apocalypse of a baby and then the nuclear bomb of cancer. If we can get through that, I can't see either of us feeding the other arsenic.

Sad Underpants

Monday night David arranged a movie date since he reads my blog and is a savvy husband. We saw the new Pixar movie WALL-E. We had a good time. I got popcorn and candy cause the last time we went to a movie was the night before my PET scan and I couldn't have anything. That sucked, so this time I stuffed myself.

I feel better. Still lots going on at work and not enough pooping going on in the potty at home. Not sure how to get the small boy to use the potty for #2. Tonight I tried to get him to run around underpantless with the hopes the potty would beckon. But he really wanted his underwear. He likes them. I told him his underpants would be very sad if he pooped in them. They didn't want to be pooped in and they really hoped he would poop in the potty. It didn't work. He pooped in his underpants and called me into his room to tell me that his underpants were sad. Sigh. He gets it. He just won't do it.

David's show got a really good review in the Sun. Called it an "ensemble tour de force." Which it is. The actors in this show are fabulous and their pacing and timing is awesome.

My MRI is scheduled for Tuesday morning. They said it was fine for me to have an Ativan before the appt if I had someone drive me. So I will probably do that, provided I have some ativan left.

Cranky-pants

A few things to report. My CT scan came back clear. So yay. Cancer is still gone. So I guess I am glad I ate the paste and endured the barium belly.

Friday night was opening night for the play David directed at the Palace; Daddy's Dyin Who's got the Will? It was a great opening. Well attended and well received. It is such a funny, yet touching show. So much family dysfunction and pot humor. But Daddy really is dying and the cast really brought out how painful that is, not just the caricature that it could be. David did a good job. He really is a great director - he finds the relationship moments to go along with the funny moments. And his actors are awesome. Very well done.

I went to the migraine doctor Friday morning to talk about the headaches and vertigo-like symptoms I have had since running out of my meds. So I am going back on the meds even though I don't want to take pills every day. And I am getting another MRI. She said the symptoms I have are migraine symptoms and not withdrawal or anything caused by the meds. The meds were controlling the symptoms. And since I did not initially present with those symptoms when I had the first MRI two years ago, they consider it a new symptom and want to do another MRI to make sure nothing has changed in there. She says they don't expect to see anything but want to look none-the-less. I will schedule that this week.

I may ask them if I can drug up before the appt. The last one really freaked me out, being in the long tube that you can't see out of. I am somewhat claustrophobic and it was really hard to sit in the tube without moving for an hour. I kept having to do breathing exercises to keep from freaking out and yelling for them to get me out of there. I have been thinking about it, trying to determine if all that I have been through, all the treatments, have made me better able to handle it. But no. Thinking about the tube and being stuck in there makes me shudder still. But this time I have some Ativan left over from chemo-relief and it sure would be nice if I could take that and reeelllaaaxxx my way through it instead of working through breathing exercises. Course I'd need someone to drive me and someone to watch Jackson. So that may be a luxury I cannot have, depending on when it is scheduled.

David and I are thinking of scheduling a two-day get-away just us two. I am feeling discontent. Bogged down in housework and potty-training and meeting him coming and going the past two and a half months. I want to do something fun. I want to go see a movie even, or stay a night or two in a nearby bed and breakfast and just get away. He starts rehearsals for his next show in a few weeks and I will be a near-single mom again and I am not looking forward to it. I am so excited he will be doing the show. But I am pretty worn out by the kid. I don't know how single parents do it all the time. 4 or 5 days a week for a few months and then this long tech-week stretch I just did has left me cranky.

Of course I realized yesterday that my crankiness may be due to the near-constant headache always hanging out there in my brain. So maybe getting back on my meds will help my attitude a lot. Heh, now that I think about it, the drug I take for headache prevention is a mild anti-depressant. Same concept, it seems, of messing with the serotonin in your brain helps with headaches and migraines and with depression. So perhaps the low dose of Pamelor I am on for my headaches also helps me be less cranky. Wouldn't that be nice. Cause I am a cranky-pants lately. The heat, the poop and pee, the way too many nights spent alone on my couch with bad tv and web-surfing, the unending toddler destruction of my house, headaches, barium paste and bad hair. Yeah. I am cranky.

Poo.

But I don't have cancer. So I should just shut up.

RIP

Last night I read an amazing essay in the June 2208 Glamour magazine. It was the personal essay contest winner of the year - won $10k, in fact. Andrea Coller, 27 year old Hodgkin Lymphoma patient wrote a kick-ass essay about her experience. Irreverent and funny, incredibly well-written. Awesome. You can read it here. So I googled her tonight to see if she writes a blog or anything. Aaaaannnnddd...she's dead. Died April 30th. GODDAMMIT!

Also learned yesterday that the mother of a high school classmate of mine died Tuesday of cancer. She was diagnosed about the same time I was and has been fighting her ass off. She was 52.

Sigh. I let myself sob here for about 5 minutes and that is all I am giving it dammit! That is all. It isn't fair, it isn't right. And today it isn't me. So I just have to keep on going and forget about it. Today I have to forget about it.

Cause if I let myself think about it and hurt too much for those who didn't make it and for the specter of it hanging right the fuck over my own head I will go crazy. And I am not going there.

I hope she spent every dime of that $10,000 dollars...

CT crap and Crap crap

I had a CT scan scheduled this morning. And I am now far enough from my cancer ordeal that it surprised me how I had almost forgotten the unpleasant experience medical shit can be.

My day started with a gag inducing breakfast of 8 oz of berry flavored barium - thick and lumpy and nasty. An hour later I drank my second dose of lovely barium and headed into the ARA branch in Round Rock. I waited in the full-to-bursting waiting room while my belly grumbled and ached from the barium. When it was my turn, they sat me down on the CT scan bed and gave me another 12 oz of barium to drink. I managed to get that down and was congratulating myself for not throwing up when something unexpected happened. The tech handed me a little jar of barium the consistency of toothpaste and a spoon. My doctor had ordered a neck CT in addition to my normal chest/abdomen scan. Makes sense I guess, since there are lots of lymph nodes in the neck and I suppose we ought to keep an eye on them. But I have never had to eat the barium paste before. It apparently coats your esophagus and makes the pictures prettier. Well all I know is that is took every ounch of my will power to not throw it and all the rest of the earlier barium up on their clean white CT scan room floor. Holy crap that was unpleasant to swallow. But I did it. That is what I do. You eat the paste and shut up.

Then instead of having me sit in the special blood draw, IV start chairs I am used to, the lady had be just lie down on the scan table and she started my IV right there. Or I should say attempted to start the IV. She dug in one arm and then had a field day digging around in the other arm before calling in the reinforcements. In this case as in many other IV failure rescues, it was a paramedic who came in and got it with no problem. Why do people who suck at IV starts continue to do them? Of course, my experience with scans is that they want to use a large needle/tube - 20 gauge - because of the pressure of the contrast dye going in. But my veins, like my person, are petite. 20 gauge is difficult to ram into my veins and I can always tell the difference in the pain of a 20 gauge vs a smaller 22 gauge. And I know for a fact that you can use a 22 gauge IV for a CT scan. They prefer 20, but 22 is fine. I know this from getting CT scans in other locations - ARA downtown and at G'town Hospital - and they took one look at me and chose not to torture me with the big one and used the 22 gauge. But somewhere in there little book in Round Rock it says that 20 gauge is the standard and I couldn't tell them any different.

I just lay there getting more and more upset, not because it hurt, which it did. And not because the fricken tech kept asking me "Are you ok?". Which I simply laughed at. I can't answer that question while you are digging in my arm. Yes, I am ok, I will live. But I would be much happier when you are done digging in my fricken arm, stop asking if I am ok. No, I was getting upset, because I had almost forgotten how much it sucks to be sick and to endure the shit you have to endure to get and stay healthy. Holy crap, it took me right back to that place of powerlessness and anger and feeling a little sorry for myself.

I tried to shake it off when I was done, but I was just irritable and cranky all day. Bitched about every little thing that happened. Had a hard time at work today because working in the theatre, especially the Palace, is all about trying to control the artistic chaos. And since I was feeling particularly out of control I was just a cranky mess. I probably should apologize to everyone who came into contact with me today.

Fricken CT scan.

In other weekend news, we closed the Chicken Ranch down on Sunday. The last three shows went pretty well, even with the stand-in actors. And I am a little sorry to see it end. It was so nice to be back on stage again and especially nice to sing again. I got good reviews from all who know me - as if they would say otherwise, since they care about me. But it felt nice anyway. But the heat really takes a toll and I don't think I could have done any more weekends. Six was enough. Unless they could give us 72 degree weather, then maybe I could do another two weeks. Maybe.


In potty news, Jackson poo poo'd in his little potty today and declared it a poop snake. And proceeded to dance around the house singing "bye bye poop snake!" How do you not laugh at this totally socially unacceptable behavior? I can't help it. But jeez. I remember a time when I didn't talk about, describe and obsess about the toilet and the things that go in it. I suppose this will pass. Heh. Pass. See what I mean? I can't fricken stop.

IC and a Poop Storm

This is the cat who does not live here.


3:00 am found the Sray household once more in cat conflict, this time from inside my son's room. Jackson woke up screaming and when I went to see what was wrong, there was Sam cat sitting outside his door having a cat screaming match with the cat who does not live here who was in Jackson's room. I got David up to help in case they started clawing and scratching and going at it. I didn't want to get into the middle of it with out backup. It didn't come to that, David got intruder cat (IC) out of the house while I comforted the small scared boy. I let him in bed with me for a little while and he was ok.

I was hoping for a while today that maybe now that IC understands that we already have a male dominant cat, Sarah isn't the only one here. But tonight he was back. I threw him out three or four times and even threw a glass of water on him out back and he came right back. Worse is that Sam was on the back porch the whole time, agitated and cat growling. I think that Sam cat is no longer the undisputed tough guy of the neighborhood. He seems to be letting IC win the turf war. I was as mean to the cat as I could stand, which was a few tosses out the back and the glass of water, but when he kept coming back to nibble at the food bowl, I gave up for the night. I just can't be mean enough to him to truly discourage his coming around. I start to think of all the reasons he could be hungry; his family moved without him, he's lost, his family couldn't afford him and dumped him here.

But he can't run my cat off and take his place. If he would just surreptitiously come in to snack and not affect the pecking order of my household everything would be fine. But we can't let him chase Sam off. Sarah isn't a threat to him and doesn't really seem to care if he is here, but Sam is another story. I have noticed that IC has some furry appendages on his hind quarters and Sam no longer has such things. Could this be why IC is winning? Sam is unmanned and IC is not? I don't know how these things work and I really don't want to know and I certainly don't want to be responsible for another cat. Sigh. Wish he would go home without me having to do anything mean to him. I don't want to be mean to him. Course, really all I would have to do is let him hang out long enough to let Jackson get ahold of him. Jackson has taken to mercilessly chasing the cats under the bed and pinning them there while he 'raars' at them and giggles. Perhaps this balzy fellow would leave willingly after being subjected to Jackson games for a while.

So potty training. It continues. The boy has made leaps and bounds in the pee pee department. Few pee accidents. He doesn't volunteer to go to the potty, but he goes a lot more willingly when I tell him it is time. He is really catching on. He has had a couple of accidents but far less than I had anticipated.

Number two is not happening though. He is going infrequently to avoid the subject of pooping in the potty. And then he simply goes in his pants. I try not to make a big deal out of it. And we put it in the potty and discuss that maybe next time he will go in the potty. Just like all the books say to do. No fuss, no reprimand. No freaking out or shame.

But sometimes shit happens. At Luby's. And though you try not to get worked up about it, when the child insists on dancing around while you attempt to get the poopy pants off of him, thus spilling the contents onto the floor of the bathroom stall then dances some more, stepping into it and smearing it all over the stall floor, and getting it clumped and stuck between his toes. And then he gets upset about it and tries to get away and leaves poop footprints until you finally grab him roughly and stick him feet-first into the toilet to wash them off and make him stop spreading it. And then you realize you only have three baby wipes left in your bag which is not even close to enough to clean his butt, feet, legs and floor. And toilet paper sticks to the poop on the floor and barely manages to wipe it up. You might just end up cursing loudly and hoping to dog no one comes into the bathroom right then to witness, hear and smell the commotion. You might be completely unable to address the accident with the no big deal, no shame, response you are supposed to give. And when you do finally get yourself under control and talk about how next time he will get his poo poo into the potty instead of into his pants, the boy might tell you that poo poo is supposed to go into the potty so it doesn't make his mommy angry.

Shit.

So I had to explain and keep explaining that I wasn't angry because he pooped. That he is perfectly entitled to poop and that poop does not make me angry. It was the dancing instead of paying attention to what we were doing and the poop smearing that made me angry and that poop is yucky and I didn't like cleaning it up. But I wasn't mad cause he pooped. This is probably too big a distinction for a boy who will be three in a month, but I felt I had to try. I can't let him think that if he poops mom will get mad. Because ultimately, I want him to poop. I know he will eventually get it where it needs to be, but I don't want to make him worried about it. Wish I had been able to laugh in the face of the poop storm instead of getting mad. But what can I say? Other than I am sorry. Which I said several times to Jackson and I hope he understands.

And I so totally get to tell the story of the Luby's poop storm to his first date.

After Luby's we headed to the theatre for a pick-up rehearsal. One of our actors can't do the show this weekend and we needed to work the scenes for the two actors changing parts to fill it. Complicated to explain, but we got it covered and all the girls seem ready to do the different parts tomorrow. Jackson had to come with me since David is rehearsing the show he is directing - it opens Friday next week.

Jackson did well, behaving and talking quietly and playing with his ball. HE watched intently whenever I was onstage working something. And when I came off he would ask me to go back up there. I think he was maybe understanding that I was acting differently than I usually do as his mommy. Pretty neat to see him watching.

Got home at nine and got the boy in bed and commenced getting my house ready for the carpet cleaners to come bright and early in the morning. Cleaned, vacuumed, moved toys and light furniture. The carpet in my living room is once again a mess and I will be glad to get out all the juice, chocolate milk and whatever else Jackson and the cats have dragged in on it.

And now I am blogging. Busy day.

Hey, you don't live here!

In the wee hours of the morning today, 5:23 to be exact, I heard a strange mewling coming from the floor by the foot of my bed. It took me a minute to shake the sleep off enough to determine it wasn't Jackson crying, but a cat. It didn't sound like Sam cat, it only sorta sounded like Sara cat sounds when she really needs something. Not meowing, but mewling, rowing. Hard to describe. I thought it sounded odd, but figured Sara's water bowl was empty or the cat door was locked and she needed to pee. So I got my ass outta bed to deal with her. Except as I walked down the hall with the cat following, I sensed that this wasn't one of my cats. It was too dark to tell, so I turned on the hall light and sure enough, someone else's Siamese cat, complete with bejewelled collar, was mrowing at my feet wanting something. The cat rubbed my legs then rolled around on the living room floor. I was stunned when I noticed Sarah cat laying not a foot away, undisturbed. We have had a few intruder cats in the past, but Sarah or Sam usually kick some ass and run them off. But there sat Sarah, watching; not caring. I opened the front door and scooted the intruder out with my foot and he went willingly. I think he may not know how to work the out function of the cat door.

I got back in bed, but couldn't go back to sleep for thinking about the fact that apparently my cats have fallen down on the job and are willing to share the place with this guy with cheap bedazzled collar with no tags. And I suspect this has been going on for weeks, because my nose has been going crazy lately. I am allergic to cats, but sorta got used to my own cats and don't spend 24/7 dripping from my nose. But the last couple of weeks, I have been blaming my bad housekeeping from doing a show on the fact that I have been itching like crazy. And I now realize that it must be this intruder cat instead and his alien dander that my nose can't handle.

To top it off, he came right in the cat door this afternoon when I got home from work. Just like he owned the place. I threw him out the back door and he came right back in. I followed him around the living room for a minute and he went to the front door to be let out. Like he was just taking a short-cut from my backyard to the front. Geez.

So I went to the pharmacy and got my nose spray to try go get my nose under control while I figure out how get rid of the cat that wants to move in without getting one of those collar-controlled cat doors. I don't want to put a non-break-away collar on my cats and they lose the break-away kind because they, well, break-away.

But, I swear, I am not going to deal with someone else's cat coming into my room to wake my ass up in the middle of the night. Cause that sucks. I got enough problems with my own fricken cats and a toddler who wants to sleep with me.

Potty, potty, potty

I need to blog, but I am too tired. Potty training along with the normal toddler mom duties and my work at the Palace have left me drained. I don't want to endlessly write about the toilet training, but I will say that it is going pretty well. Jackson had no pee accidents today and that is a testament to my constant vigil of clock-watching and cajoling him onto the potty with various rewards and incentives. We still have not had any success getting him to #2 into the potty. Though I did chase him around for two damned hours tonight knowing full well he needed to go. He kept saying it was going to come out, but he would clam up as soon as he got on the potty and no amount of cajoling and encouraging could get him to go. He is scared to, it seems.

So we are on day 4 in underpants during the day. And I am tired. But happy, at least, that the pee pee part is going as well as it is. He even has been staying dry during his nap. So yay.

Tired.

Jackson likes his blue cars & Vertigo Redux

Jackson lined up as many of his blue cars as he could find yesterday. The search through his hundreds of cars for all blue ones must have taken quite some time and effort and he lined them up quite nicely. So I decided to take his picture with them. But he kept blinking.


And blinking.


We are in near-full-out potty training mode now. I only have a few diapers left and am conserving them to get me though work tomorrow. So while we are home, I am getting him to run around pantsless or in undies. He is doing pretty well with the pee pee. He gets a special candy from a car container he picked out every time he uses the potty. Though he gets pretty mad at me if he gets on the potty and tries to go but can't, cause I won't give him the special candy for trying. He thinks A for effort is the accepted norm and he calls bullshit. But I won't budge. The special candy is for successfully depositing something in the potty. And we have talked and talked about my promise to take him to Target to pick out a toy after the first dump that makes it into the potty. I don't, of course call it a dump to the boy. But I have been talking poop and pee all day and I need some variety now.

So it seems that this is going to be potty training weekend as we are just about out of diapers. Happy Father's Day, David!

So the vertigo from April 07 is back right on time. I ran out of my headache medicine that I take daily and don't have an appt til June 27th at the Headache clinic. Last year I saw the GP several times and suffered for at least a month and a half with the dizziness and vertigo until I finally got back on the Pamelor. But I never got medical confirmation that the vertigo is migraine related and 'cured' by the Pamelor. No doctors would confirm that. It was my own internet searching that turned up the one study that showed that migraine patients can suffer from vertigo that is not inner ear related. And their suggested treatment was Pamelor for a year. Tada! And I wanted to see if getting off of it again would lead to the same symptoms. And it seems to be beginning. Sigh. I can't take this med while trying to get pregnant, which I am not currently but would like to be in the near future. Am I saddled with Pamelor forever or forever suffer vertigo and dizziness? Hopefully the Neurologist will shed some light and take me seriously when I go in. I have to try to hunt down that study I read. I had it favorited on my old computer but that is gone now.

While looking for that blog link to April last year I got to reading a little of what was going on then and it was pretty clear that I was sick. Pretty much every post has something about Doctors and how sucky I was feeling. I was searching for help from docs long before we actually got any for my serious illness. Kinda sad to think about how the primary care doc I was seeing time and again missed so many opportunities to help me. She did not order one test. Not one blood test or x-ray. Such a shame. Hindsight is always so clear.


Tomorrow we start the show up again for the weekend. We are nearly sold out for Friday and Saturday, but Sunday is awful. I guess the ladies don't want to bring the Dads in their lives to see the whorehouse. It is going to be sad to see empty seats when we have been spoiled the whole run with full houses.

Chemo-Queen Craziness and Almost out of Diapers!

First things I should say is that my PET scan showed no evidence of Lymphoma so I remain in remission. Last night I got a phone message from my mom asking about my results. If it tells you how little I was worried, it took me a minute to remember what results she was asking about. My poor mom was worried enough to call and ask, and I had almost forgotten I had a scan done. I got the call today that it looked great. So I thought I would share that news first for anyone who might not have forgotten I just had a cancer scan. Negatory. yay.

This weekend of shows was nearly sold out and went very well. It has tightened up into such a good show - an oiled machine. I truly recommend you come out and see it. We have two more weekends, June 13-15 and June 20 - 22. I guarantee you will have a great time! Tickets are here!

Sunday was a little crazy. I decided to see just how close I could come to being in two places at the same time. I was invited to speak at a cancer survivor lunch at Berry Creek Country Club which started at 12:30. My call at the theatre was 1:00. I asked Andrea' to do my mic check for me and I preset all my costumes and props Saturday night. I got permission from the director and stage manager to get there late - like 15 till curtain. Crazy right?

But I did it. I spoke at 12:45 to a small group - maybe 60 people. Mostly over 50s and some elderly folks. It was a Sun City group. But they responded to my story and I even had them clapping in the middle of my speech. I wrote a list of several common characteristics of cancer survivors that I had not done before and I was please to see that they really got it. When I got to the one that says:

"Now, when interviewers or questionnaires ask the standard “where do you want to be in five years”, our answer is one word – Alive."

Most people said the answer with me. They knew. A group of strangers answered almost in unison and they all started clapping right then. Pretty awesome. And we all shed a couple of tears together and it was all good.

I was done at 1:07, stayed another 15 minutes to eat a little from the buffet and shake hands and I got to the theatre at 1:42. Show started at 2:04 according to the rehearsal report and I was on 5 minutes later. When I said my first line, my mic was working perfectly, thanks to Andrea' doing my check and I knew that I had pulled it off. Not sure how often I want to overbook like that, but when I am asked to speak, I want to be there if at all possible.

I had David take my picture Sunday before I left. I was too lazy Saturday to go to the costume shop for the red gown. So I wore a spring-ish yellow gown Mary Ellen gave me at the same time she gave me the original chemo queen gown. I couldn't fit into it then; couldn't zip it. But it fits now and I was happy to be in something light for the hot weather.

At work Monday, my co-worker Elizabeth invited me to attend a local fundraiser in July at a ranch near Florence. Her husband is one of the organizers. It is a skeet shooting tournament put on by several construction/sales companies in Georgetown and will be benefiting American Cancer Society. So I may be one of two women there, but I said I would be there to speak if they want or just help with the auction and whatever else they want me to do. Should be interesting and a good fundraiser.

So I have about 7 diapers left in my last package of diapers. Jackson and I have been talking every day about how when they are gone he gets to wear underwear and go in the potty. He seems to be ok with it, but I am nervous as hell. Am I really ready for this? Am I ready for the cold turkey, all or nothing approach? I am scared to death. How will this work? Do I just go to work as usual, except take changes of clothes and plastic bags to haul home the inevitable soiled clothes? Do i give him a pull up at nap-time? Or does he just wet himself at naps? I don't know if I need to get another little potty for at work or see if I can't get him to use the big potty with a step stool and one of those toddler-sized seat toppers? I feel so unprepared, but I guess I will just see what happens here in the next few days when I use the last diaper and have no other option. So nervous. But I guess I can always go back and try again later if it goes too badly. We shall see.


Oh and here is a headshot of my hubby taken last weekend - just cause I think it is awesome.

The bank as punishment

So much going on this week. Wednesday night we had a vocal pick-up rehearsal where I learned I was singing the alto part on one song I should have been singing the soprano part. "Oh, yeah, I did learn that part way back when." Don't know why I forgot. Actually, I do. Because the soprano part usually follows the melody and in this case the alto follow the melody and the sopranos go a step over it. So last night's show had a new feature - me singing the right part. And it made all the difference in the world - the audience was mesmerized.

Jackson stayed at my Mom's house Wed night since I had a PET scan Thursday morning. So after rehearsal, David, Elaine and I went to a 9:00 showing of the new Indiana Jones movie. I haven't been to the movies in so long I can't remember and this was a treat, sort of. Because of the PET scan diet restrictions - no sugar, no starches, no carbs but green veggies - I couldn't have any candy and no popcorn. The no popcorn situation made me twitch endlessly in my seat with the feeling that there was something so important missing. And there was - popcorn. The movie was fun - not the greatest, but fun.

And Thursday morning, after I slept through David's alarm and had to rush to get ready, I headed in to my 8:00 a.m. appt for my 'six months since chemo' scan. It was uneventful. I made it through traffic and got there on time. Got the IV in one stick and layed around my hour waiting for the radioactive isotope injection to work its cancer-finding magic. The only thing I didn't enjoy was the crying toddler in the next room the whole time I was trying to doze. Not really because she kept me from really dozing, but because I knew she was getting a procedure and was scared and upset. I couldn't really relax cause I worried about her and how they could get her still for any kind of scan - would they strap her down further terrorizing her or what? I was just grateful it was me there for the scan and not Jackson.

But I made it through the tedious hour and 45 minutes of laying int he room waiting for the scan and the laying in the scanner and was free to go. I will get my results next week, but I don't worry too much. No point. It will come out how it comes out.

I have a great parenting story from yesterday that made me happy. And since it came from a tantrum and discipline, that makes it even better. At work yesterday, Jackson was making a big mess from a box of wooden token/coins that we are selling for Whorehouse. He likes to get out a bunch of them and stack them and spread them around and just go to town on mess making. And it was time to go and I asked him to pick them up and put them back in the box. And he refused. Looked at me and smiled and got more out and chucked them everywhere. After a few minutes of fruitless negotiations, he simply would not pick up after himself so I told him if he didn't pick them up we were not going to the bank. On payday, we drive through the bank and he gets a sucker from the teller. He loves the bank. But I told him we weren't going since I had to pick up the coins and he cried and cried. And still made no move to help me pick up. So no bank. He cried off and on, but it took him till we were halfway home before he realized that I meant it and we were not going. When we got home, David was here, having taken off work early. As usual, he asked Jackson what he did today and Jackson very sadly said, "I didn't pick up my coins." I was so impressed that not only did he understand he'd been punished, but understood that his actions caused it. Later when Elaine came over he told her that he didn't pick up his coins and we didn't go to the bank. Who knew the bank was such a great incentive. Perhaps a trip to the bank will help me keep him in line for years to come.

Probably not.

Today is David's company picnic at the YMCA in Cedar Park. It is going to be a scorcher, I think. But we are about to head out there and I predict Jackson will have a great time. So I am off to apply a quart of sunscreen to the family.

Mommyhood is Tough

Just when I have just about had it with toddler parenting, Jackson does something sweet, or cute or smart and I relax a little bit. Being a mom is hard. And I often feel that I am not equipped to handle a toddler. The constant defiance, destruction of my house, waking me up at all hours and getting up too damned early to stand at my bedside demanding cartoons, chocolate milk and cereal. Everything takes longer. Can't get up and get ready to go without a fifteen minute negotiation on what clothes he will or will not wear. Refusing to eat a balanced meal. Stone-walling me on using the potty. I just feel like there is a constant power struggle going on and I am the loser cause I give in too much. Or the loser cause I don't give in and cause him needless stress and pain on an issue that ultimately means nothing. Being a mom to an almost three-year-old is hard. And I wish I got a little less angry with him. I wish I could keep my cool better and not get so frustrated.

But then he reminds me of the rewards of being his mom. And I refuse to get all maudlin and write a damned hallmark card. But I will try to do better and be kinder to him even when he has gotten on my very last nerve - which he knows exactly how to do.

As far as the potty training, we have not really started intensive work. I find that as long as going in his diaper is an option, he will not choose to stop what he is doing all the time to go. Why would he? He is wearing a toilet. So we decided that once the current package of diapers is gone, we are going to put him in underwear and see what happens. Perhaps the incentive of not messing himself will prompt him to use the potty. He hasn't been interested in the potty for days, in fact has been very resistant to it. But today he ran around naked after work and I made him get on the potty and he peed. And we praised him to high heaven. And after he was in bed and supposed to be sleeping he called me in to tell me he needed to go pee pee. I thought he was playing me. He did the same thing last night and it resulted in no peeing. I figured it was his new way to get out of bed. But I can't say no. I am trying to get him on the potty, so how do I say no when he asks? So tonight I let him get out again and he actually used the potty. Yay!

So we shall see how it goes when we don't have any more diapers and his only choice is mess himself or use the potty. Hopefully it will be a short term learning process. But from reading message boards I know that it probably will not be easy and it is going to be messy.

He was sitting with me on the couch tonight - nekkid. And I have always been aware of helping him appreciate his body and not be ashamed of it. I told him, "Jackson, I love your body." He said, "I love my body too." So I started naming parts that I love. "I love your knees and I love your shoulders and your toes..." And predictably he says, "I love my pee pee." "You do?", I asked. "Yes, and mine hieney." I told him "I love your hieney too, son." Little boys sure zero in on what is important in life, don't they?

Blog Laziness

I am so lazy right now. Don't want to clean my house, fold my laundry or update my blog. I just want to sit around and watch tv or read. Does doing a show take so much out of you that it turns you lazy? In my case, I think so. It isn't unusual, and this show takes a lot of work. The actual performing, the quick changes and the heat. The heat really zaps you. It is hard to describe the experience of needing help to peel the soaking negligee off of your back so you can get into the non-breathable doggette costume over top of the next ho costume over top of the thick dance bod tights that are holding everything in. I worried in the beginning with all the layers and strapped into a mic that I would have to pee in the middle of the show. But that is no problem. No AC in the dressing barn along with the running around of the show means we sweat buckets. No peeing needed.

It is fun, too. But it is really draining. After a weekend of shows I feel like I need a day off. I actually took one today. I woke up with a headache and was just generally drained. So I stayed home and played with Jackson and napped and inflated the new backyard pool we got for him. He splashed around for a while, but for him to really get some fun out of it, I need to get some kids over here to get in with him. A kiddie pool is a lonely place all by yourself, I think.

Sunday next week I will be speaking at a survivor's day luncheon at a country club in Georgetown. I got a call at the Palace last week from the Breast Cancer resource center lady, Marjorie, who was scheduled to speak but can't. I have a show Sunday at 2:00 and the luncheon is at 12:30 which will be cutting it really, really close. But I talked to the director and she said to do it. So I will have someone do my mic check on Sunday and I will try to leave the event by 1:10, get to the Palace at 1:30 and be onstage at 2:00. That means I need to pre-set all my costumes and props before the speech, but since I have a theatre key I can get in there myself if I need to. I really want to do the speech, since my last event was tornadoed out. I only need to tweak the speech a little and see if I can get the gown from Ramona's. I can wear my dance tights under it and be in full make-up - minus the whorish extra glitter and shiner on my right eye.

What else is news in my world? Laziness abounds. I caught up on my tv shows last week by watching them all online. I love that I can just go about my business and still watch some tv when I get to it. I should really get into the modern times and get a DVR, but I am cheap and don't want to pay for it. Same with the HD tv. I have a kick-ass HD TV and won't spring for the HD programming cause they want to charge me a couple hundred for the upgraded receiver - not counting the service itself. I just don't want to pay it. Dammit, if I were a new customer they would put it all in for free and rub my feet on the way out. But since I am under contract they want to screw me and I say fuck them. I can't do it. So no HD for me - except what David manages to get using a good old fashioned pair of rabbit ears. We actually do pick up several channels that way, but I just don't bother mostly.

I really need to do some housework and I am stalling again. So lazy.

Ladies and Gentlemen, We Have Pee Pee!

Warning -this post is all about toddlers and pee pee and underpants. This may be very boring for the non-toddler mom and non-grandparent segment of readers.

So for a few months I have been starting the agonizing over-analyzing of the right of passage known as potty training. We have had a little stand alone potty for a year or so and for a few months we have also had a small potty topper for the big commode, all in preparation for the potty training to come. From time to time we ask if Jackson wants to sit on the potty and which potty he would like to sit on. And he has occasionally sat on one or the other for about 2.5 seconds with no attempts to actually potty in them going on.

But since he can't go back to pre-school in September in diapers because he will be in the 3's and 4's class. And since I am thinking of signing him up for a kinderdance camp this summer and they surely don't change diapers there, Jackson boy needs to be potty trained this summer. It is that time. And he has shown much more interest and more signs of readiness in the last few weeks. He wants to be changed immediately when he is dirty and often when he is wet. And when he sits on the potty, I feel like he is really trying to go. He says "it isn't coming." So I think he really wants to do it, he just hasn't quite got the motor control down yet. there.

But last night after his bath he wanted to run around naked as a jaybird and we couldn't coax him into his clothes for half an hour. And as he stood naked dancing in the living room I happened to catch him beginning to pee. I said, "Uh huh, Jackson. No peeing on the carpet." And miraculously, he stopped midstream, having only peed a little bit. So I said, "Come on, let's got to the potty, quick!" We ran down the hall and he sat down naked on his little potty and said once again "It isn't coming, mommy." So I turned on the faucet in the sink so he could hear the water and he peed in the potty for the first time ever! And he was so excited and he got lots of praise and since we read the potty book all the time he knew that now he got to pour it into the big potty and flush it like a big boy! Yay!

Today I keep asking if he wants to go pee pee on the potty and he tried once this morning, but couldn't go. But this afternoon, he peed again and was so excited. So am I.

And a little relieved (uh, no pun intended)since he will turn 3 in July and 3 seems to be the 'your kid can't do fun things if he is still in diapers' cut off age. Course my pedi says even 3 1/2 isn't unusual or worrisome for boys to potty train. But I sure am tired of changing diapers and I don't want him to be left out of the 1/2 day camps this summer because of it. I have been a little worried that because he is so small, his motor control is going to make him unable to go and not go when he wants to. And I don't think he will be able to pull up and down his own pants for a while. Some schools require that at 3 they not only be potty trained, but be able to do it all themselves. Jackson is only just now 26 pounds. He is so tiny, I worry about that. But we can work on it and see if his size affects his motor control as much as I worry it will.

Today we went to Target and bought some underpants for the boy. Which was harder than it should have been. We were at Kohl's first and they didn't have any in toddler sizes. They had tons starting at 4T. And even target didn't have much to choose from. Seems that people do the "Pull Up" diaper thing now so much that there isn't much call for toddler underpants. And when people do put underpants on a 3 year old, they are probably not a 26 pound 3 year old like mine so they can use the 4T from the boy section. And I couldn't find any actual training underpants - the old-style cotton padded crotch kind. I guess those are rare in the "Pull up" world now too. My sister handed me down 4 or five pairs of them. Not sure if I will need more. But I guess a trip to Babies R Us will be in order if it turns out we like them and want more. I bet they will have some. But we did get some Sesame Street underpants and Cars underpants. So we shall see what Mr. Jackson thinks about underpants vs. diapers. I hope he loves them and never wants to wear a diaper again.

I am optimistic that potty training will not be as hard as I have heard about. I have not pushed it thus far because all I have read indicates that starting too early does not often equal an early-trained kiddo. They say that if your kid isn't ready, you will spend months of hard work and not be done any sooner than if you simply waited. Meaning you will probably be done at the child's pace whether you start early or not. So I am trying not to stress about it. Course now I feel a clock is ticking somewhere. September is not that far away.

I am also grateful that I so far have not had any competitive, negative experiences with other moms. I read a fellow toddler mom's blog (Hi Julie) and she recently was called out by a mom at a play group for not having her barely 2 year old daughter potty trained. She didn't beat the woman about the head, surprisingly. She handled it with class. But I am grateful that I haven't met that woman or any like her. I might not have been so nice. Especially since I have barely begun training my almost 3 year old and I so do not believe in the soccer mom competitive bullshit. Julie's Stella is fine just the way she is and it is wonderful that this other lady has a daughter that was ready to potty train really early. Doesn't mean shit in the broad scheme of things (pun intended).

In conclusion: Yay Jackson for starting to potty train! Yay Julie and Stella for going at their own pace and not punching the snotty lady at the park.

Amateur Night at the Palace

Friday night's show was a disaster to be remembered. Truly one for the record books. It was like a cosmic force of suck descended over the theatre and could not be lifted. First and most importantly, the air conditioner was out in the auditorium. It had been left to run after Thursday night's pick-up rehearsal and was frozen solid. And no one noticed till 6:45 pm when there was nothing we could do about it. I kick myself, since I worked in the office on Friday during the day and didn't notice that the auditorium was a stifling inferno. The unit for the lobby was fine and in our defense, we don't let the air run in the theatre when no one is working in there. Even if I did notice it was warm in there, I would have assumed the air was off, not broken. So we roasted. We roasted on stage, the band roasted on their backstage perch and the poor audience of 250 roasted in the slow-cooker.

As if that wasn't enough, pretty much immediately upon starting the show, the monitors stopped working. These are the monitors that allow the actors to hear the band and vice versa. So they couldn't hear us and we couldn't hear them. And no amount of poking and prodding, wishing and hoping, would get the monitors back online. They were out for the count. We did the whole show the best we could, often not quite in time with the music.

And weird things kept happening during the show. Not acting things - tech things. Set pieces blown over by the wind in the alley, batons getting stuck together and not raising as they should. This one was big. There is a big black curtain down during the scene when the aggie boys are in their locker room singing and dancing about their impending visit to the whorehouse. Mid song this drop is raised and the set changed to the whorehouse behind them. At the end of the song they 'arrive' at the chicken ranch. So when the curtain got stuck on the facade of the house and no amount of pushing and pulling would get it unstuck, Ron had to raise both the black curtain and the facade. In the meantime, the song ended and the boys were supposed to be there, except the black was still down and no whorehouse awaited them. But they were great, ad-libbing lines, hooting and hollering "We're goin to the whorehouse!" "Where is it?" "We gonna be there soon?"

So finally the curtain is up and the girls all rush in for the 'prom' scene already in progress musically because the band has no idea what is going on. We sort of make it in time for the dance part and get on with the scene. Problem is that the facade of the house, which is supposed to be there when we take the boys up to our rooms, is not there. So there are no windows with shades to close. We still have to go upstairs, but instead of taking a breather and getting a drink of water in the privacy of the room, we are exposed to the audience. So we all go up and get in a 'whorish' pose with our guy and freeze. For at least 3 minutes. While dialogue goes on downstairs and the Melvin P Thorpe crew comes in to raid the chicken ranch. Doesn't sound like a long time to anyone who has never had to freeze on stage. It seemed an eternity.

We managed to pull it off and finish the show. We lost people at intermission. I don't blame them for leaving. The theatre was like an oven, the sound was crap and we were pretty low energy due to the heat. Not up to the Palace standards at all.

But really, we can be proud that as a cast, we didn't miss a step. It was not a good show, but it wasn't line flubs, missed entrances or forgotten lyrics. We actually got a standing ovation. I think the remaining audience knew that the problems were out of our control. And I heard it said several times from audience members that we gave a good performance and they were impressed with how we managed it. Mary Ellen, the director, was grinning from ear to ear by the end of it. She told me that despite the crap, she was so proud of the cast that she couldn't help smiling.

After the Friday from hell, I just knew that Saturday night's show would be the best yet. And it was. The AC was back in working condition and they had a sound guy come in the afternoon to get all the monitors and mic's functioning. We did a 40 minute sound check before the show to get the best possible mix we could. It really sounded great. Downside was that we opened the house for seating 15 minutes late and I was afraid we were going to piss people off from the get go and that could ruin the this-show-must-rock mojo.

It didn't. We had an amazing show. The sound was awesome, the actors excited and full of energy and the audience wonderfully responsive. They clapped along with the aggie dance, hooted and hollered a lot and generally had a great time. It was a blast. And it was so nice to remember how much fun it is to be on stage when the audience is right there with you and you're in your groove. I actually teared up a little bit on stage when I was up in my room and the black curtain came up perfectly on time and the boys were dancing so well and the audience was clapping and I stood in my window as Angel and took it all in.

We are closed in the office on Monday for the holiday. We shall see on Tuesday how many requests for refunds and angry emails we get from Friday's debacle. But I am just so glad that we gave Saturday's crowd their money's worth. Yippee!

BTW, anyone wanting to come see the show, we have three more weekends. Fridays and Saturdays at 7:30 and Sundays at 2:00. Get tickets now, though, we are selling like crazy! Click here to go to the Palace site to buy tickets online or call 512-869-7469.

Heh, if anyone wants to come, that is, after my description of our glorious Friday night. But really, that was such a cosmic fluke, it can't happen again, right? *furiously knocking on wood*

Okay, okay, here is a new post!

After finding myself under assault from friends and family about my break from blogging, I figured I had better update.

WE opened The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas on Friday to a near-capacity audience. We had rehearsed like fiends since you last heard from me and were terrified that the show wasn't ready. And it wasn't. But I am not sure that a few more rehearsals would have helped because we were all so tired and burned out on it that we would probably have stumbled through without much improvement. Instead the curtain went up and we expected the worst. And then a miraculous thing happened. The audience started laughing and responding and it was clear they were there to have a good time and didn't care if the set changes were a bit too long or that we weren't always perfectly with the band. And when they started laughing we remembered that the show is actually funny. We were so burned out that we lost any feel for the jokes and the fun, but the opening night crowd reminded us what we are doing up there and we began to have fun too. Any little bobbles we had were taken in stride; we just kept going. And it was a great show - not great as in perfect, without a hitch - great as in full of fun and energy and invigorating. The boys in the show had worked so hard on their big dance number and the audience loved them and clapped along to the music. It was so much fun. I am so glad to be back up there right in the thick of it.

Saturday and Sunday were good as well, with full houses and lots of laughs. Heh, during a quick change on Saturday, our Narrator, Kris, accidentally left his fly unzipped. It was really noticeable, enough that an audience member noticed and pointed at it. Kris, then worked the zip-up into the song he was singing and the audience loved it. IT worked out so perfectly, implying that the narrator had been 'visiting' the chicken ranch. It worked so well that he did it on purpose Sunday and got the same response. It is the little things, sometimes, that make a show. And it is the sign of a true actor when you can leave the barn door open and make it work for you. Yay, Kris!

The reviewer was there on Friday. He got a good show, but of course the tech could have been better. He might ping us on that. Scene changes were a bit too long, etc. But hopefully he will talk about the good stuff. We shall see how many Poppy's we get on the illustrious Red Poppy scale. 5 is good 1 is bad. We have never gotten less than 3. Not sure if anyone has - they are really nice over there at the Sun. I'll let you know.

I had an appt with my oncologist yesterday. My labs look good and I passed the physical exam again. My WBC was a 3.8 - normal is 4.0 to 11.0. But Dr. George says that is fine for me. We will schedule another Pet and CT scan for June. That will mark 6 months since I finished chemo. I asked about babies. I want to have another baby. Now. Not in a few years. Now. He says it is up to me. My cancer isn't hormone related, so I can't necessarily make it worse by getting pregnant. I can't get a PET scan while pregnant and a CT is risky also. He says that we can do a few chest x-rays and shield the baby and that should be fine to monitor me while pregnant. He also seems to think that is the cancer comes back, we will know it without a PET scan. It will show up in my bloodwork and physical and he doesn't think it would sneak up and be missed. That is a relief. I am thinking that if this June scan is stable and the next one in October is also clean than I will just get off the pill and see if we can't make us another baby.

Dr. George brought up the thought that a lot of cancer patients want to wait a while to see that they have really licked the cancer before having a child because they don't want to have a child they may not be here to raise. But the way I see it, there is no guarantee that the cancer won't come back even if I am clear for ten years. And furthermore, there is no guarantee I won't be hit by a bus tomorrow. I already have a child and a cancer diagnosis. I don't want him to be alone in the world when his parents are gone. I want him to have a sibling and I don't want him to get too much older before we give him one. Yeah, I know I could die of cancer in a year. Or maybe it will never come back. I just can't make that my basis for deciding on another baby.

While I was in the doc's office, Tonya watched Jackson in the lobby and he had a grand old time watching the fish in the huge aquarium. He loves them and talked all about them. Except to his father. I tried to get him to tell Daddy about the fish. We were eating dinner and I said, "Jackson, tell your daddy about the fish you saw today." He said "Fish." David tried to get him to elaborate, "Where were the fish that you saw?" Jackson said, "In the water." That was pretty much the end of trying to include daddy in the fish adventure. He just wasn't going to share anymore fish stories.

I am taking off work tomorrow and Thursday to go to my sister's in Kingwood with my mom. We are going to see Elizabeth Edwards speak in Houston Wed night. According to the web:

Elizabeth Edwards, a breast cancer survivor, talks openly about overcoming life obstacles in a nonpolitical event. Wife of former Presidential hopeful John Edwards, she is the author of Saving Graces. She’s an accomplished attorney, law school professor, and a passionate advocate for children.

Not sure what she will talk about, but it seems like it will be an interesting event. And a nice little road trip with my Mom and Jackson.

I need to do some laundry tonight to make sure my show costume stuff - tights, undies, and other unmentionables - are clean for Friday night. I also am going to wash my wig.

I am wearing my cancer wig in the show as Angel. I love my wig. I love the color and body and cut of it. I put it on and look in the mirror and think, "Oh, there you are." I identify with its femininity in a way I don't identify with my butch do. I am enjoying wearing it in the show. It makes me feel sexy and I can't tell you how important it is to my ability to act sexy. I feel less self-conscious and more vivacious and simply prettier in it. And since I have worn it in the heat and sweat-fest of tech week and opening weekend, it is in dire need of some TLC. When I first got the wig, I babied it so much. I could not have imagined the future of me having to leave it lying on the floor backstage - on top of my shoes- waiting for the next quick change. I would have been horrified to imagine the dust and sweat and other yuck it has been in contact with for the show. But it is holding up well - unlike the cheap, ugly, black wig I wear as a Dogette. After a week of (mis)use in the show, all of them are looking pretty rough. They have to come on and go off very quickly so they end up in a pile with each girl's costume backstage. I don't think they can be washed and fixed. They are $20 wigs meant for Halloween costuming. Luckily they aren't supposed to be pretty.


So tonight is laundry and wig-washing night. And then in the morning I head south to Houston area. See you tomorrow, Jen!

The show and nothing but the show

I have spent about 22 hours at the theatre rehearsing since Friday. Needless to say I am tired and have no time to pee and eat, much less blog. We are getting there, the band sounds great and the costumes look good. We still have some work to do to get this show open. But we have Three more full tech/dress rehearsals to work it out. It is going to be tough, but I am starting to feel like we are going to have a good show.

I bought dance tights to wear under all my lingerie to cover my white and interestingly bruised legs. The elastic waistband sucks ass though and is so tight it cuts into my body and makes things bulge unattractively. But we have a couple of "real" dancers in the show and they both gave me tips. One told me to cut the elastic band in spots all the way around to make it looser. That helped, plus I pull it up to just under my bustline and it smooths my line rather than ruin it. The other tip is a stroke of genius. I have the best shoes for my outfits, but they are open toed slides, both of them. Impossible to keep on my feet onstage when running and/or dancing and coming up and down the staircase to the rooms upstairs. The dance tights just made them slip around even worse. Jessee the dance captain told me to sew a piece of elastic in together at the ends and slip it over the shoe and my foot. So I used the two pieces of flesh-colored elastic left over from when I bought my ballet slippers. It works amazingly well! So I get to wear the impossible, but gorgeous shoes in the show and I can even dance a little in them! Yay for dancers who share their knowledge with others. Thanks Sabrina and Jessee!



My mom is picking Jackson up from school tomorrow and keeping him a few days while David and both have rehearsals. David is directing the next show up at the Palace and needs to get started on blocking. So I get to sleep in Wed and Thurs mornings at least. I will miss Jackson, he is such a good boy lately.

Except the whole throwing up thing. Saturday, he spend the day with his Dad and grandparents. It was hot, he ate lots of junk, didn't drink enough or ate something bad - we aren't sure what the cause was. But I go home at midnight after a very long day and looked in on him before going to my room. He was sleeping peacefully enough, but I thought "he's sick." Not sure what made me think that, but i remember just knowing he was sick. But I went to bed anyway and when I was just about asleep, I heard him coughing. The kind of cough that for Jackson, always proceeds him throwing up. So I jumped up and ran into his room. But I wasn't fast enough. He upchucked all over his pillow and bed and arms and shirt. Just everywhere. So David and I spent the next hour cleaning up and making sure he was done. I was so far past exhausted at that point I just had to laugh. But luckily it was a one-time thing and I slept like the dead until 10:30 Sunday morning. David let me sleep in, wonderful guy that he is.

He also gave me a gorgeous pair of earrings and a heart pendant 'from Jackson' for Mother's day. I love my boys.

Fingernails and Ice Cream and Mullets

Instead of updating and talking about the insane amount of time I am spending at the theatre working on the show, I thought I would come up with something else to talk about.


Like my new fingernails that are making it really tough to type. I broke down and got some really nice falsies. I am desperate to once again stop biting my nails down to nubs and I figured this was worth a shot. The new nails look nice and are really strong. They don't look as nice as when I grow my own nails out; they have that slightly fakey quality that fake nails have. But they are a hell of a lot better than the chewed look I have been sporting since Jackson was born.

Speaking of the small boy, he has developed a new sleeping arrangement. He gets out of his bed in the middle of the night and comes to our room. He climbs up the hope chest at the foot of our bed and flops down near our feet on top of the blanket, like a dog, and goes to sleep. I barely notice, but David can't sleep with the boy all curled up in his foot space. It seems somehow wrong to let your child sleep at the foot of your bed like a pet. So we are trying to discourage the practice, but so far, no luck.

I am going to appear on stage wearing little clothing in under two weeks, but still, David, Jackson and I took a well-deserved family Dairy Queen outing after dinner tonight. Jackson asked me to ride in the backseat with him and we talked about ice cream and what kind we wanted the whole ride. He also asked me if I loved him several times, a habit he picked up from his father. Such a simple thing, a trip to Dairy Queen, but something to treasure none-the-less.

My hair is about an inch from officially being a mullet. Not sure what to do about that. Get a trim, I suppose. Because I can't walk around with a mullet. My ego would run screaming off a cliff if I let that happen.

I don't have all that much to talk about, it seems, without blogging incessantly about the show and how it is and isn't going. So I will stop now and pay attention to my cat.

Is this show gonna get there?

Just a quick blog to say that I am really busy working on the show. Rehearsing 3 hours each night and 7 hours yesterday. My singing voice has been non-existent. Truly, I open my mouth to sing and no sound comes out. But it is getting a little better every day. I have not been even trying to sing during rehearsals. And it hasn't been necessary since we are mainly trying to get the scenes and dances set on the stage. I am terrified about how much remains to be done and how much work it needs. But the others in the cast who do lots of Palace musicals are not worried. I am used to plays that are blocked and off book and nearly ready to go two weeks out. Musicals are different, at least at this theatre. But with everyone knowing what is on the line, they generally come together by opening night. We get costumes Saturday next week and hopefully the band will join us and we can set the music and be ready to go by May 16th.

In other news, Jackson saw me get out the box of blueberry muffin mix yesterday morning and said, "Blueberry muffins? Mama, I love you."