Last night's rehearsal was good. I think I finally turned a corner and have a grip on what I need to be doing. Andrea' has always been pretty clear on what she wanted - bigger, more character, more interesting - especially in the opening monologue. But I simply couldn't bring that out with the character and the lines as written. When I wrote it, I unconsciously shaped Marian as my child's eye saw her. Lady-like, well-spoken, elegant. And I couldn't take the monologue written for that character and apply it to this big, brazen and heroic character that Andrea' wanted. It took me a good week or so to figure out why I couldn't just give her what she wanted, but once I figured it out, with some key re-writes, I was able to get there last night. I still have a little ways to go perfecting the changes, but the hardest part is over. Whew. Anyone who says that children's theatre isn't difficult has never tried it. And it is worse when you are working against the writing. Good thing I did write it though. Being able to change my lines at will is a great perk.

On an interesting note, having your best friend as your director can complicate things a little bit. I don't have a problem taking direction from her as I respect her expertise in this area very much. But I know her. I mean, I really know her. And I can pretty much read every nuance of her body language and her words. Not just what she says but what she doesn't say. And during my learning process and my character difficulties, I felt her worry and her nervous energy in a way I am sure she didn't mean to happen. And it made it harder for me to relax and get into the groove. I t made me clam up a bit. And doubt myself - granted, I always doubt myself at the beginning of a rehearsal process. But I just felt uneasy and wondered if doing this show myself was the right thing to do.

But last night as we finished rehearsal, Andrea' came up to say how much improved I was and I could just feel the relief radiating off of her. So in my head I thought, "OK, what gives?" My character wasn't there before, but it wasn't that bad. Even at my worst I don't completely suck. And Andrea' knows damned well, from doing so many shows with me, that I am an actor that needs a rehearsal process to get a character right. She knows I eventually snap into it and take off running.

So I called her on it and she had to admit that she had been worried, but that it had nothing to do with me. She wouldn't say anymore, but I have to assume that there is some kind of political pressure afoot. I kind of expected a bit of that anyway. You can't put a non-company actor in a key role in the play she wrote, which is directed by her best friend, and not expect there to be a bit of political fallout. I have been involved with enough theatres to accept this fact as given and not worth worrying about.

And Andrea' never meant for me to know. And of course she hasn't told me anything about it. But a great friendship is like a marriage. You can't come home with whisky on your breath on not expect your wife to smell it.

But all is good. I have made my usual overnight snap into the character and can spend the next two weeks improving it with the help from my talented director. It is gonna be a great show.

No white before Memorial day? God I hate this crap. Just saw a whole feature on one of the morning shows about it. Apparently Merideth Viera wore white pants last week and received a shocking number of emails about how you aren't supposed to wear white till after Memorial day and only until Labor day. Of course the fashion experts they asked all said the same thing. The rules are old and stupid. Stop worrying about it. But all the women on the street insisted that the rules were valid and they couldn't let them go.

I find the whole thing so fricken stupid, I can hardly stand it. Probably because I live in Texas, the land of 2 seasons. Common sense wise, especially in past generations, it probably was simply smart dressing to leave your white shoes in the closet till all the snow was melted and the spring rains gave way to summer. Less opportunity for your white clothes to get stained and dirty.

But come on. It shouldn't be such a hard and fast rule that people - women - freak out about it and judge other women because of it.

I remember trying to help a college friend find something to wear for a date. She just couldn't find something suitable. Mostly because she was from a northern state and couldn't catch a grip that it was ok to wear a short sleeve, knee length dress in November. "It's out of season, it's out of season." She kept chirping at me. I never did get through to her that, yes it is November, but it is still 90 fricken degrees outside, cuase we are in Texas, wear the fricken dress already. I don't remember what she wore. Probably a sweater or something equally sweltering and 'in season.'

Sigh. I never fit in very well to female culture. This kind of stuff really bothers me. We love to make rules and classify other women based on their ability to follow them. I don't want to follow the rules on principle. So there.

Little boy and his pond

Jackson discovered the abandoned koi pond in the backyard. He also figured out that rocks + ponds = hilarity. Enjoy

Man, when I get out of the habit of blogging, it is hard to go back. But I need to get with it, I know. Things have been busy. And I feel guilty about blogging when I have lines to learn.

Jackson just got over the stomach flu. That was fun. Poor baby had about 36 hours of off and on throwing up and then he decided it would be easier to just let it all out the other end. Messy, but at least I didn't have to chase him around with a bowl anymore. Too much information probably, sorry. The first picture is of him sleeping in the chair with me. My baby never sleeps in my arms unless he is sick. It is very bittersweet. I cherish the time holding the sleeping boy, but I know it is only because he isn't feeling well. Notice the Spiderman balloon he is still clutching in his sleeping fingers. Jackson decided it was the best medicine that Walgreen's had. He is doing well now as the second pic shows. He likes to play in the rain. He is all recovered from his 2 week cold and then this stomach bug. We may have a few weeks of health to look forward to, until he comes in contact with something else his immune system needs to tackle.

I just finished a two-weekend show at the Round Rock Public Library. They do a murder mystery fundraiser every year and a friend asked me to come be in it as a favor. So I did. It was really well attended and the audience seemed to have a good time. I had more fun than I thought I would. The group that does the show are mostly city employees; library staff, police and city. They are not actors, they are not directors, they are not writers. They are not theatre people. They bring in a couple of local actors to fill in where needed. And it is not really up to the caliber of show I am used to doing. But they have a good time and the show was well attended. Apparently this is their 16th year of doing this fundraiser and they have several hundred regulars who come. They know the actors, for the most part, are city employees and they aren't expecting great theatre. Heh, they seemed to laugh harder when people forgot lines or the light board operator forgot to turn the lights off at the end of a scene and an actor said "Yeah, this would be a good time for the lights to go out." The group also has a stock line for when they have hopelessly forgotten their lines and they can't save it. My actor friends are going to die when they hear this, but true story, the person who is lost says "And that's all I'm going to say about that." Really. We had an actor say it. And the audience howled, making me wonder if the line is an open joke in this little library community. Anyway. I had a bit of a hard time with the extreme amateur nature of the production. Such as arriving on time to each rehearsal only to begin 30 minutes later and only because I got testy and said "can we go ahead and get started now?" I also kinda took over backstage with the props and such and probably left them all with the impression that I am a big ol diva. I didn't mean to behave badly and I am not sure that I actually did. It is just that I take theatre very seriously. You don't have to be a professional theatre to put on a professional show. And I simply could not relax and go with the flow with this group because to me, this is important stuff and little things like a dress rehearsal where no one drops character and/or calls for lines are to me, a crucial part of staging a show. And when people are paying $25 a ticket, IMHO "And that's all I'm going to say about that" should appear no where in the production.

The Scottish Rite Children's Theatre has begun rehearsals for my show, Robin Hood, directed by my best friend Andrea'. Andrea', who, in her infinite wisdom, decided to let me play Maid Marian. So I get to be an actor in my own show! It has been lots of fun so far. The three men in the play with me are pro's. Really. As a cast we are off book already and ready to spend the next few weeks perfecting things before we open April 21st. I have to shake myself a bit now and then, because this is such a professional theatre company that I sometimes feel a little out of my league. The guys really are fabulous character actors and I am, well, an ingenue who needs to loosen up in order to be interesting to children. I hope I can get it. But to be honest, it is my own fault. I wrote Marian as a "straight man" to Robin Hood, Little John and the Sheriff. I didn't mean to. I think. It just turned out that way. She is the central figure, around whom the action takes place. It was important to me that she not simply be a damsel in distress. She is the Royal Accountant and she is siphoning money from the taxes for Robin Hood to give back to the poor. She is important to the story and she takes action to change things, she doesn't just wait for Robin Hood to change things for her. But she is definitely the straight man. And for me, that is difficult to play. How do I make her interesting without dulling her serious function? She isn't dumb or ditzy. I suppose she could be clumsy...hmm. I just need to figure some things out so I can stand up there next to these men and not fade into the background. I am already working at rehearsals to project so I can be heard in the theatre without a mic. I know I will get it. And I am sure Andrea' will read this and make sure I get it. I just seem to fall back into self-doubt at the beginning of every rehearsal process. It's like I have to go through doubting myself in every role I play before I can kick myself in the pants and get it right. Do other actors do this? Am I the only one to play the "I'm not good enough, so I better work harder and make sure no one else catches on" game? I dunno. I am just an actor that requires a rehearsal process, I guess.

On a good note, the show itself is actually funny! I mean, I thought it was funny when I wrote it. And after workshopping it and making some crucial and wonderful changes to the script, I thought it was downright great. But rehearsing it with these very funny men and our very funny director has been a riot. I just can't stop smiling when I watch the guys sword fight with loaves of bread and I think (a la Sally Field), "Holy Crap, this is funny, it really is funny!"

Also, the Scottish Rite Children's Hospital in Dallas has asked for us to come present the show for their kids in June! They will pay room and board and pay us for the additional shows. I am so excited. It will take some planning cause if I am gone on a Mon and Tues then someone will need to keep the small boy. But what an opportunity. I feel like a pro. Our show is going to tour to Dallas. I just hope that I don't get emotional about seeing the sick children. I have a hard time with that now that I am a mom. Hits you where you live really fast when you see a kid, just like your kid, who has some terrible illness. But it will be a good time for the kids, I am sure. Something different and fun. I am sure I can manage to deal with that.

Just wanted to share a couple or recent pics. First is Jackson out in the yard playing. He has a suspicious substance on his face, probably just ate some dirt or something. The other is Jackson helping me do dishes. He can't stand seeing bubbles and water without getting his hands in it. I expect to begin teaching him to rinse dishes soon. He may as well help if he's gonna be up there.

Have you seen the movie trailers for Bridge to Terabithia? Looks like a great high fantasy. And it is. Sort of. I vividly remember reading and enjoying the book as a kid. But it is a memory tinged with sadness. And I find the trailers to be quite misleading. Yes, there is fantasy and adventure, however parents are going to take their kids to this movie unprepared for the fact that ****spoiler alert**** one of the main characters, a child, dies. I guess it will make for great conversations between parents and children about death. I just think parents ought to know ahead of time and decide if they and their kids are ready for it. Of course, as a young reader, I was blindsided by it. And it sure gets in deeper when you are unprepared. If you know a character is going to die, you have the chance to steel yourself. To guard from getting to attached to them, so that when they die, it doesn't hurt so bad. Heh, I can think of two other literary deaths that will still get me weeping every time. In fact, when I re-read these books as I am want to do occasionally, I will read all the way up to the death and then stop. I am talking about Lonesome Dove, of course, and David Eddings Sparhawk series which if you don't read fantasy you won't know what I am talking about.

I am just rambling, since I just saw that movie trailer and wondered how they could take such a powerful book and turn it into a 35 second adventure trailer with no reference to the true theme of the book.

I may be extra sensitive to this since I recently saw Pan's Labyrinth. It was a truly brilliant movie. Powerful and heart breaking. And I went in totally unprepared for the brutal, realistic violence. It was marketed using little but the high fantasy adventure aspect and I didn't expect that the movie was really about the evils that men do and the lengths that innocents must go to, to rise above and escape them. The fantasy aspect is almost minor and as a viewer you can either choose to believe it is real or not and it doesn't matter to the power of the movie either way. It really is brilliant and one of the most powerful movies I have ever seen. I am glad I saw the movie. I have told others that they must see it. But I am not sure if it wouldn't have been easier to take had I understood going in that I was not really seeing a fairy tale movie.

Ok. Gotta cook dinner, I'll leave the discussion to other armchair intellectuals...

Today has been a good day. I am in Santa Anna (population 1,082) visiting my Dad on his birthday. Jackson and I took off mid-morning and drove 2-1/2 hours north. Took an hour to get out of town, but once I hit Seward Junction on 183 traffic was light. It is a nice drive. Rural. 70 mph speed limit. Sunshine. Just a nice day to drive. Jackson actually slept for about 45 minutes, which is almost a record. I have the only child in known existence who does not sleep in the car. But he was happy, and when he got tired of riding, I gave him a ziplock of Goldfish, which always makes him content for a little while longer.

Got here about 1:00 p.m, just in time for BBQ burgers and hotdogs. My brother had his girls, Emma and Gracie, and his girlfriend's 3 kiddos. Jackson was so happy to run around the yard and play with the soccer ball and just watch what the older kids were doing.

He doesn't get enough outside time. I feel guilty about that. But after taking care of him all day and working half days and getting home and thinking about cooking dinner, etc... I just don't feel like going outside and keeping up with him. He doesn't like going out into the back yard. He only wants to go out front where there are sidewalks and people walking dogs and cars. If I go outside with him, I basically have to walk around the block with him cause he just wants to keep going. And the cold doesn't seem to phase him like it phases me.

So today was good. My Dad has a big ol fenced yard and a sandbox and play scape he built for the grandkids. Jackson could go all over the place and he did. He walked the fence line. He chased the soccer ball. He pointed at birds and just had a great time. And when I put him down for a nap, he sighed and was grateful and slept for a good two hours.

When he woke up, it was just him and me. My brother left and my Dad's employees dragged him off to the monster truck show in Abilene. Yeah, that's right, the monster truck show. So Jackson and I played on the floor with some matchbox cars my Dad has. And he sat on my lap and pointed at body parts for me to name. He knows eyes. He knows mouth. Or at least he likes sticking his finger in my mouth. We are working on nose and ears. But he rarely sits still and pays attention to me long enough for repetition to make memory.

But today, my boy was so affectionate. He let me hold him and he gave me kisses and hugs and just let me be close to him. This may not sound like much to you, but it is a pretty big deal to me. My son was not a born cuddler. He was five months old the last time I got to rock him to sleep. He doesn't like it. When he is tired, he just wants to be put in his crib. And this is not a bad thing as far as sleeping and routine is concerned. I know lots of parents who would love to be able to put their kid in bed at 7:00 p.m. and say "goodnight" and that's that. I know that. It is just nice that as Jackson is getting older, he is learning to be affectionate. He seems to understand now that it is about showing love and happiness, not about being confined or smothered. It makes me happy when he grabs my face and gives me kisses - which usually include lots of slobber and sometimes teeth. And today was a good day for that.

Heh, maybe it made a difference that his Daddy wasn't here. When Daddy is around, Jackson still prefers to stick like glue to him. He loves his Daddy. But he doesn't give his Daddy kisses yet. So I am content.

Things are pretty good. My Robin Hood script is in its second draft and those I have asked for suggestions don't seem to have anything to add or subtract. So I may just read it through again and make sure I like the way it reads. Then I can call it done. Scottish Rite will be holding auditions for it in a few weeks and it goes up in April. I am excited. I hope it plays well and the kids love it. I think it is pretty darn good. My editing contributors had such great suggestions after the first draft that it is now so much better than I thought it could be. I am definitely proud.

BTW, my Dad's keyboard is disgusting. It is covered in cigarette ash, coffee, and numerous other unidentified substances. When I am done posting this, I am seriously going to give my hands a good scrub. Didn't I just read that women's desks were more dirty than men's? Hmmm. Guess I know what a good birthday present for my Dad is. New keyboard. This one is gross. Really.

Sometimes I am astounded by how stupid everyday normal people can be. I mean really. Yesterday an article on CNN.com appeared entitled "Microwave zaps germs on sponges, study finds." The article outlined an experiment in which microwaving a kitchen sponge dipped in sewage killed the bacteria and how in every day life, microwaving your kitchen sponges on high heat for 2 minutes would sterilize them. Great, I thought! I usually put them in the dishwasher, but if microwaving them is better, then I will do that.

Well apparently lots of people decided to try it right away. No one wants a germy sponge. So today on CNN.com appeared another article entitled "Microwave experiments cause sponge disasters." Apparently the average American ignoramus can't figure out that you had better wet the sponge before microwaving it. Here is a quote from a respondant:

"Just wanted you to know that your article on microwaving sponges and scrubbers aroused my interest. However, when I put my sponge/scrubber into the microwave, it caught fire, smoked up the house, ruined my microwave, and pissed me off," one correspondent wrote in an e-mail to Reuters." (I think the best part is the 'pissed me off' part, hee hee.)

So now CNN has put out this caution:

"The university issued the following advisory: "To guard against the risk of fire, people who wish to sterilize their sponges at home must ensure the sponge is completely wet. Two minutes of microwaving is sufficient for most sterilization. Sponges should also have no metallic content. Last, people should be careful when removing the sponge from the microwave as it will be hot."

Notice how they tagged the 'careful sponge will be hot' warning on the end of this. They must have figured the same geniuses who microwaved a dry sponge (Paris Hilton) would not realize that said sponge might be hot.

Geez...why are people so dumb?

Here are links to the articles in case anyone wants to read them.

http://www.cnn.com/2007/HEALTH/01/22/germs.sponges.reut/index.html

http://www.cnn.com/2007/HEALTH/01/24/germs.sponges.reut/index.html

Dady Insurance Commercial

Ok, so here is the commercial I was in. I have to warn you, it is me looking my most dufus. Yes, dufus. Of course we were supposed to look like dufuses (dufi?) but really, I'm just very good at looking like a dufus. And why didn't anyone tell me my ear was sticking out like that? It only added to the dufus factor, I guess, and that was what they were looking for.
Apparently this commercial was all over News 8 Austin this week. And since most of us were iced in and glued to the weather on TV, lots of people saw this. I have been ribbed unmercifully by several surprised people who exclaimed "Oh look, it's Marsha being a dufus!" Ok, so maybe they didn't say that.
Ah, fame. It's so fleeting. Are these my 15 minutes? I hope not...

I have had a couple of great events happen in the last week. It is really nice to have something positive to blog about!

First, I filmed a commercial yesterday! I got a call last week to appear in a Dady Insurance spot. They are a local Georgetown company and they called the Palace looking for a couple of actors, and I was one of the lucky ones. The commercial was a "one size does not fit all" theme. There were four of us in it -husband, wife and two kids. We all wore similar business suits that didn't fit. I was swimming in mine, as were the kids, and my friend Ron wore a ridiculously small suit. And we all acted as if nothing was wrong. Then they shot us at the Dady Insurance office seated across from the kindly salesman who was taking great care of us.

I had a really good time. I was a little nervous that I wouldn't do well, cause my film experience is limited to the Industrial they shot at St. David's 8 years ago and working an on-camera phone bank for KLRU. But I shouldn't have worried. I am savvy enough to know not to look at the camera and to be aware of the camera at the same time. Plus it was mostly action, I had only one line - "Goodbye dear" - not something easily messed up. Ron and I got a kick out of the fact that when we got there they said "Oh, the talent is here." We laughed good and hard at that one. We are stage actors, we aren't used to being treated with such respect. Ha Ha.

After we finished shooting, the producer said to email him and he would get us copies of the spot and to include a headshot and resume. He said he will consider us for future projects. Time Warner produced the commercial, and they do so for a lot of regional businesses apparently. Cool! I would love to do more. It was fun and I think I did well, at least they had very little to say to me other than "on this take, do it the same way." So I will probably send the spot and a resume to a local agency, see if anyone else wants to give me a shot. Could be fun.

This commercial will air on CNN, and ESPN 1 and 2. I guess they are going for a male head-of-household type demographic. Course in my house, insurance and similar decisions are mostly mine. David and I discuss things, but it usually end with him saying "Whatever you think is fine." He doesn't mind at all not having to worry about researching such things. I am the bill payer in my house. Sorry Dady insurance, unless you show the spot during ice skating, I probably won't get your message.

The second cool thing to happen this week began with my friend Lynn requesting to use one of my monologues in her audition for the Scottish Rite Children's Theatre company auditions. I figured since it is children's shows, she should do The Glass Slipper - my piece written from the glass slipper's point of view about the terrible time she had being tried on so many feet. Lynn must have done a good job with it, because she got a callback. And the company manager wanted my contact information. She contacted me for a copy of the monologue because she liked it so much, and she asked me to write the script for their Robin Hood show that goes up this Spring! And it just so happens that they have already contracted my soul sister, Andrea' to direct Robin Hood. How cool is that? I've already sent over a preliminary plot sketch broken into scenes and I am beginning work on the script itself. I have written many monologues, but this will be my first play. And to already have an intent to produce it is simply amazing!

I feel very lucky today. I have never won a raffle. Never won a door prize. In fact I may be the only woman in history to attend a Bridal Extravaganza and not win a single thing. I don't even bother with the lottery. I always say that I don't have that kind of luck. But I don't feel sorry for myself because I know that I am lucky in other ways. This week is an example of that.

I am so mad right now I could spit. Really. Just reading on CNN about John Roberts, our Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, devoting his year-end report to the "constitutional crisis" that is the "grievously unfair" salaries of Federal Judges.

"Roberts said the judiciary will not properly serve its constitutional role if it is restricted to people so wealthy that they can afford to be indifferent to the level of judicial compensation, or to people for whom the judicial salary represents a pay increase."

What do they make, you ask? "Federal district court judges are paid $165,200 annually; appeals court judges make $175,100; associate justices of the Supreme Court earn $203,000; the chief justice gets $212,100."

http://www.cnn.com/2007/LAW/01/01/judges.pay.ap/index.html

Wow. I wonder how they ever manage to live on such a pittance. How hard it must be for them to pay the bills, the pool boy, and the nanny.

I wonder how Judge Roberts would manage to feed and clothe his family, say on $60k a year. Which is a lot more than the US median income of less than $45k. Wonder how he would feel if he were living just one good illness away from losing everything, like us in the shrinking middle class.

It is disgusting and scary as hell. I am beginning to realize that no one is looking out for us, the middle class - heh, who am I kidding, on the 1 and 1/4 income David and I now live on we are now lower middle class. And I am happy to be, if that means my child doesn't go to daycare 50 hours a week.

And did you get the implication that people that make less than 200K are not fit to be judges? Right here - "or people for whom the judicial salary represents a pay increase." Did you get that part?

Is this you, my terribly fair and moral friend? Is this you that makes your measly $80k a year and would be unfit to judge the righteousness and constitutionality of our laws? Because this is nearly everyone I know and I believe that nearly everyone I know would make a better federal judge than John Roberts and his like. Son of a bitch, this makes me mad.

And most people will not notice or care, and we will continue becoming a dying breed - and we may or may not do as well as our parents financially. And what does this say for our children?

Sigh. I'm tired. Reading the news wears me out.

I just read that Saddam Hussein has been hanged in Iraq. Why does that make me feel nothing but sadness? I'm sure he was as bad a person as they say he was. Responsible for much pain, suffering and death. Perhaps it is the hanging that bothers me. Maybe it is the fact that his trial just ended and this means he gets no appeal like Americans do. Maybe we need the passage of time to feel numbness about executing someone. Like 12 years from now, they'll kill Scott Peterson and we'll all just shrug and go on.

I don't know. I just feel sad. I read today that his execution was imminent and I tried not to think about it. Cause I couldn't shunt aside the fact that he is a person and he must be scared to know that he was shortly going to be hanged. I am sure that isn't an easy way to go. Man. He was allegedly the source of so much evil and I just feel a painful empathy for the scared and alone man preparing himself for his death after a trial that could have had no other outcome.

Maybe it is because this is the doing of my country, done in the name of freedom, done in the name of the American people and our war on terror. Done in my name. This execution was done in my name. That may be why I am taking it so personally.

My husband is awesome. He really is. This morning at 7:30, I got up and got Jackson as usual and went into the living room. David had not left for work yet, he was down on the floor cleaning the carpet. Apparently one of our cats, probably Sam, left us a rather gruesome present. David spared me most of the details, but the words headless rat were used. And the head apparently was nearby. And my wonderful husband got rid of the carcass and cleaned up the mess before Jackson and I got out of bed. Nice man. BTW, Chem-Dry makes the most badass carpet solvent. It doesn't have much soap and almost no fragrance. It works by using carbonation to bubble the dirt up to the surface. And there is no visible rat blood on my living room floor. Chem-Dry Carpet Cleaners, people good product and service.

I finally ran out of sample migraine medication and had to get my 5 month-old prescription filled. It had to go through a whole bureaucratic process before the insurance company would cover it. The docs apparently prescribed me way more than necessary. They wrote the script in August at the height of my headaches and migraines. So a 30 day supply is 18 pills. But I don't have 18 migraines a month. I have maybe 2. Thus the rigmarole with the insurance company. But they covered it and I have enough migraine meds to last for at least 6 months - or 18 migraines, whichever comes first.

I had to pay $75 for it, but Aetna paid $350! 18 pills cost over $400. Wow, good thing I am just above the level of the American working poor. Good thing my husband and I don't work at Wal-Mart and have no health insurance. Good thing I have a credit card that can help out when I have to pay for headache meds and $500 MRI's that would cost the uninsured $3000. Good thing we are all living just one good illness away from having nothing. Just forget about it, middle and working class. Forget about it and go stand in line for three days for a Playstation 3. Fuss and fight over who says Merry Christmas and who says Happy Holidays and forget that our congresspeople get to keep making their current salary for the rest of their lives while our pensions and social security become relics of a bygone age. Forget that the cost of a 4 year degree will soon be into 6 digits and won't guarantee our children any measure of success...

Um. Sorry. I was trying to write a positive blog about how good I have it. My husband didn't leave the dead rat for me to find this morning and my insurance company actually shelled out a little bit of the $300 a month we give them. These are good thing that I am grateful for. Sigh. I need to go watch the daily show...

I have seen the trailer for the movie The Nativity lately on T.V. and I can't help make a few observations about it. My first thought was that I appreciate that the actors are not Caucasian. They aren't the darkest skinned people out there, but there is definitely more than a little middle eastern-ness about them.

Then I kind of got sucked in to the story and the epic nature of the trailer. A prophesied baby, a paranoid King set on stopping the prophesied child, the angel visiting Joseph and the trek to Bethlehem and a gloriously bright star leading men to the newborn baby. Wow.

It struck me suddenly that the reason I was feeling drawn to this movie is that is the same kind of story I prefer to read. I love to read fantasy books and this story is no different than dozens of my favorite novels. Writers, like David Eddings, Mercedes Lackey and Elizabeth Moon all write wonderfully epic stories that take you to a different world where Gods rule with a visible hand, prophesies are met by those born to meet them, and Magic is a reality. The Harry Potter books are a great example of what I am talking about. I love these stories and can't wait till the authors finish the series so Good can triumph and the Evil get what they deserve.

Now, people who know me understand that I am not a religious person. I do not believe in the Nativity story as a true happening. While I do believe there was a man named Jesus who tried to teach others a better way to live and treat one another, I do not believe that his mother was a virgin impregnated by God. As an agnostic, I won't even say that there is a God. But I think the Nativity is a great story and looks like it will make a great movie.

Just like I think they should make the Belgariad into a series of movies like they did the Lord of the Rings. I don't think we should fight any wars with people who don't believe that Garion is the true Rivan King ordained by the Gods to rule, but I do think it is just as great a story.

After almost 6 months of tooth-cutting freedom, Jackson is back at it with a vengeance. He is getting four molars - two on each side, top and bottom. He is miserable. The cranky-o-meter is almost off the charts. His sleep is disturbed which does not help the crankys much at all.

David is at his limit. When he is home, he is Jackson's primary belonging. Daddy can't go to the bathroom without a little boy crying outside the door. So these last few days have been rough on him. Me too. He says he needs a break, but I can't give him a break. Jackson cannot be comforted or consoled by anyone else as long as David is in the house. Tomorrow, I may take the boy to my Mom's house to give Daddy some alone time. And frankly, Jackson is easier to take care of when David isn't around. He can play independently and eat calmly and generally be laid back in a way that is not possible when he can see his Daddy. He attaches himself to his Dad's leg when he walks and cries to be carried and held. He wants to sit on Dad's lap while he plays on the computer, which makes it impossible to actually play on the computer. At Thanksgiving dinner, which David had to eat while holding the boy, David's folks remarked how we need to somehow stop this behavior, let him cry so he learns he can't always be in Daddy's arms.

Of course, if you think about it, this is probably not anything many, if not most, other children do. Except it is usually Mom, not Dad, that is the baby's sole possession. We would probably not even be having this discussion with the in-laws if it were me he were so attached to. If the boy was cutting 4 molars at once and was so crabby and uncomfortable that he couldn't stand to be out of his mother's arms, would anyone say for me to let him cry? Would anyone think that me having to eat my meal with a baby on my lap was a hardship? Or would it simply be what is expected of a mom and go unremarked?

I must say, though, that it is a little sad for me that my son prefers his Dad. (Here it comes...you knew it was coming...) I do everything for that child. All of his day to day care, food, diapers, clothing, general well-being - these are things that I provide him. And he is perfectly lovely and contented with the quality of my mothering. Until his Dad comes home from work. David, tossed him around and runs through the house with him, becoming the boy's personal rollercoaster and all of the sudden I am chopped liver. Man. That is a sob story. I am going to have to save this blog for him to read when he's grown up. I could tell him something like, "You didn't appreciate the way I slaved for you when you were 16 months old. Perhaps if you bought me a diamond necklace from your hefty salary as a highly-respected ___(blank)___, I would forgive you."

I actually am happy that my son and my husband are so well-bonded. And as much as David gets worn out on the weekends from Jackson's constant need of him, I think he will be sorry when the day comes that he is not the almighty-worshipped Daddy, bringer of all things fun. People say that parental preference shifts many times in a child's life, and at some point, Mommy will be the favorite. If that happens, then I am sure both David and I will remember this stage with fondness and longing. Except for the cutting four molars at once part.

I took Jackson's picture this morning while he was playing in his ball pit. The sun was coming in the window and nicely lighting him. I heard Joni in my ear saying "Look at that wonderful natural light." So I got the camera and took a few shots. Not quite a Joni pic, but not too bad. And Jackson was happy and posed well.

He hasn't played in his ball pit for about a month or more. I put the lid on it to get a break from having to pick up a hundred colorful balls from my kitchen floor every night. His favorite game was getting in and flailing about spilling most of the balls out to roll everywhere. I just put the lid on it and we both forgot about it. Then today he whined and made it very clear that I needed to take the lid off. So I did, resigning myself to ball retrieval later. But an interesting change of modus operandi has occurred. Now Jackson plays in the pit by putting balls in the bucket. Or balancing one ball in the little trowel. What astounded me was that any time a ball escaped and rolled away, the boy had to stop playing, get out, and go get the ball. Instead of sending balls flying with glee, it bothered him when a ball escaped.

I just find the fundamental shift in thinking that must have occurred amazing and though I understand this is going to keep happening, I am sure I will be surprised by him many, many more times in the coming years. Big Fun!

You gotta see this...
Being a parent has moments of pure joy. Unexpected and fleeting...unless you have a video camera at the ready.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vfTpgnRIMFk

I wasn't intending to get a costume for Jackson. He is a little young yet for trick or treating. But friends saw the chicken costume at Old Navy and bought it for us. And it is really cute. It's the kind of costume you can only put a kid this young in, cause any older and he would refuse to be seen in it.

I dressed him up and took him over to the bank near the Palace this afternoon. They advertised pictures with a scarecrow from 2 -4, so we headed over. Jackson took one look at the human-sized scarecrow doll sitting on a hay bale and refused to get near it. Smart kid, really if you think about it. I don't blame him. So I sat on the hay bale next to the scarecrow doll thingy and he sat on my lap and we got our picture. A Polaroid, regrettably, so I can't share it with you. But in it, my little chicken boy had a wary look on his face. As if he wasn't sure we should be sitting so close to the creepy doll man, but he was willing to trust me for the time being. After the picture all the ladies at the bank oohed and ahed over him and he relished the attention and held court as usual. Adoration comes easy to the child. He takes it as his due.

This evening, he was much less cooperative. Being nearly his bedtime, he was less interested in getting into the chicken suit for pictures. He required a paci in his mouth to suffer the indignation. It took both me and David to get the thing on him. I kinda feel bad now for forcing him into it when he clearly just wanted to wind down and go to bed. Sorry Jackson. The family demands pictures and that means the chicken suit. If I had it to do over I would have gotten all the pics this afternoon when he was post nap and happy.

Once he was dressed and allowed to wander about the front porch with us he was content. Then he got into the candy bowl and managed to get into a Butterfinger bar. Then he was really happy. He helped us greet trick or treaters till he was ready for bed.

In my neighborhood there are a couple of Halloween trends that are really starting to bother me. The first is the caravan of cars driving through the streets. These are parents following their kids as they go house to house. Really, there is car after car of them. And the kids periodically run back to the car to empty their loot buckets. I really think this is not a good idea. There are so many kids out there walking and it is dark and it only takes one kid darting unexpectedly into the street to make a tragedy of immense proportion. Is this a fat American thing? A lazy thing? Or are all these kids from a different neighborhood that requires them to be driven here. That doesn't bother me, bring them on over. But park your car and get out and walk your damned kids around the blocks. And Elaine pointed out that all these slow driving cars could mask a pedophile hunting for the kid that wanders off. Just not a good idea all around.

The second bothersome trend I have seen the past few years is the number of 12-16 year olds trick or treating with no costume and carrying a backpack for loot. This baffles me. As a kid living in the middle of nowhere we didn't often get the chance to trick or treat, but on the few occasions that we did, I would have been mortified to go without a costume. Even now, David and I make an effort to put on something costume-like just to hand out candy. But these kids seem to have no shame. They are a little old for the pasttime anyway, but to do it without even an attempt at a costume seems to reek of teenage entitlement and that attitude always gets my blood boiling. They don't have to make an effort, they don't have to do anything but open their bookbag to get the candy that we bought with our ever dwindling single and a half income bank account. I really am thinking of implementing a no costume - no candy policy at my house.

But two things stop me: the thought that some of these kids may be from poor households with nothing extra with which to buy luxuries such as costume supplies. And the fear of retaliation for turning them away. There is nothing more scary to me than teenage anger. Probably the worst I could expect would be a severe toilet-papering, but in today's world fifteen-year-old boys are scary creatures. They can kill and maim without regard for consequences or reprisal. Not a likely scenario, but one that makes me not turn away the costumeless teens. I did only give them a couple pieces of starlight mints and dum dums this year, but I am not brave enough to chastise them for their laziness and send them away empty-handed. Maybe next year.

My cat is a comedian...

I woke up at about 4 this morning to the sounds of raucous baby laughter coming from the nursery. I figured the boy was having a good dream or something. But when the laughter continued for about 15 minutes, I figured I'd better go see what he was up to. I opened the nursery door to find Sarah the cat standing on the changing table looking into the crib. Jackson was standing there watching her and laughing. Apparently, my cat decided to practice her stand up routine in the pre-dawn hours with my son as her audience. And being the big meanie that I am, I kicked her out of his room so that we could all go back to sleep. The end.

Today we took Jackson to David's Folks for the night. They will bring him home tomorrow evening. So we have a baby-free weekend, which is really nice. And Jackson has such a good time with them. He gets spoiled just like he is supposed to with grandparents. And Susanne always sends pics. We got home a couple of hours ago and she already sent a batch. Thus the cute pic of the little boy playing with the fall decorations.

Just as we were about to leave to take him to Harker Heights, I started to see an aura. My headaches are coming more frequently again. And the increased dose of meds I take at night lower my blood pressure so I am feeling dizzy a lot when I first stand up. It is disappointing to have them back after a month or so without them.

But today, when this migraine started, I was determined that it would not ruin my Jackson-free weekend. I immediately took my meds as I am supposed to, but I also tried something an elderly lady suggested to me last week. She said that she suffered from migraines for years, only migraine meds are only about 10 years old, so she truly had to suffer through them. She told me that whenever she first saw an aura, she was told to put her feet on ice. And this would keep the migraine from becoming the all encompassing pain marathon that they are. Migraines are vascular and have to do with constricting blood vessels in the brain. Not sure what ice on the feet would do, unless it cools the blood or something and soothes the blood vessels. I dunno, but I though it was worth a shot.

So today, I took my meds and got an ice pack to put my feet on. I sat on the couch deep breathing and relaxing with my feet freezing to death on the ice. But when the pain came, it was not so bad. It still sucked, but I wasn't lying on the bathroom floor unable to move for an hour and a half like the migraine two weeks ago. And I feel like perhaps the ice, the meds, and the relaxing meditation in combination, may just have saved my Saturday from total ruin. I was able to go with David to drop my son off as planned. And I am fully able to go out tonight with my best friend as planned. I feel like I was able to will the migraine away. Probably silly, but I am proud of myself none-the-less.