Holding pattern

Okay, this may be a surprise to you but I don't like being a "helicopter mom". I would so much rather be home watching TV! I really miss losing so many hours of my day to activities that I am not even participating in. Luckily, when I can drop her off and do my own thing, I do. And when I can't, at least it's skating and I have some friends at the rink. But what's really gotten to me lately is the fact that I will never be able to kiss her goodbye at the door in the morning and send her off to school. I will always have to drive her. Her school is not that far from us, it's a good healthy walk but she's a good healthy girl - she could make it. But see, people would think I'm a bad mother because anything could happen on her way to school.

I started walking to school by myself on the second day of kindergarden. The school was nearby but I was still 5 years old! Middle school was farther but still I walked, sometimes alone, sometimes with friends. We would walk home together, talking and laughing - decompressing from school. It wasn't until high school that I even had the option of taking a bus. And the possibility of my mother driving me to school??? Please - that didn't exist! Yes, it's a different world today. But I didn't live in Kansas. I lived in New York. True, it was the suburbs - that's different, you're thinking. Okay. When I was 13 years old, I would take the train into New York City with a friend to see a Broadway matinee. At fourteen or fifteen, every week I took the train into Grand Central Station to get on the subway to Times Square where I changed for the number 1 train to go up to 96th Street so I could get to my singing lesson. And you know what? Anything could have happened! Sometimes something did, but nothing so bad that I couldn't figure out how to handle it. But how would I have learned to handle it if I never had the chance?

Look, I know I can't let my 10 year old daughter walk to school. First of all, none of the other kids in our building go to her school. That would have made it easier - if she went to the local public school with the neighbors. It's even closer!!! But you know what, they don't walk to school either. We live near a high school - all those teenagers around - anything could happen. She would have to walk along a very busy street, passing bus stops with strangers waiting there for the bus - anything could happen. She would have to pass by a freeway on ramp - anything could happen. There are homeless people scattered around the neighborhood - anything could happen.

All of that is true and I watch the news - believe me, I know anything can happen. It just makes me sad and a little bit worried that I am raising a child who will have ZERO street smarts. If you are always with your mom, you never have to make the decision whether or not you might be safer if you crossed the street and didn't walk through that crowd of teenagers or past the drunk guy on the park bench because she makes that decision for you! When my daughter goes off to college someday, I'd like to think that she'll know how to trust her instincts but will she have had any practice? I got her a cell phone this past summer, not because I want to spoil her (although she probably is anyway) but because I wanted to be able to leave her places. To give her a bit of independence, but still keep her safe. I know a cell phone can't actually keep her safe but it gives us both a little more confidence as she steps out into the world. The world that is as different as it was when I was a kid as it is the same.

My cousin lives in a lovely community about 45 minutes away and when we go to visit her, my daughter gets to hang out with her cousins. Outside. Unsupervised. In the neighborhood. With the neighborhood kids. I am SO glad she gets to do that. Hopefully while they are out there, they are exercising their instincts. All our kids are going to need them someday and it's hard to trust them if you've never used them before. So while I'm always aware that at any time and in any place, anything can happen, I also know that our kids are bright, resilient and strong and if given the opportunity, can probably make safe and smart choices.

Of course, I'm still not letting her walk to school. And obviously I can't let her walk home from school. She has too many activities! So I'll just keep hovering. But maybe I'll try to hover up a little higher or go behind a cloud once in awhile so she thinks maybe she actually has to take care of herself. Because practice makes perfect - and how is she ever going to take care of my darling little grandchildren if she never learns how to take care of herself?

My skating obsession

The big advantage to the whole "helicopter parenting" thing is that I ended up with a hobby. Okay, hobby is maybe the wrong word... Obsession could possibly be more accurate. I only admit that because I personally subscribe to 14 skating blogs that I check on a daily basis. I pay $29.95 for an annual pass to a website where I can watch all the skating they don't show on TV, on my computer, live in the middle of the night while it's happening in Russia or wherever, so I don't have to wait to read about it on a blog. I didn't intend to be a skating fan. I didn't even intend to be a skating mom! If fate hadn't thrown my daughter together with another little skater in kindergarden, I might be following women's soccer today. But a mother can only hang around a rink SO LONG before she got to stop smiling and nodding and actually find out the difference between ISI and USFSA, what a salchow is and how to pronounce it, why your darling daughter insists on wearing tights and a dress when a nice warm pair of pants seems so much more sensible and how I can possibly watch her fall THAT many times without losing my mind.

The good news is I learned all that stuff. And more. And the more I learned, the closer I watched her. And the closer I watched, the more I wanted her to do better. And the more I wanted her to do better, the more I realized I had no control over it. And the more I realized I had no control over it, the more frustrated I got. So I turned my attention away from the ice. I drank coffee in the snack bar. I read a novel. I chatted with the other mothers. Eventually I started to follow the sport. BINGO!!!! Suddenly, I had a way to participate without putting pressure on my daughter!! I could watch skating on TV and root for my favorites and my daughter could tell me what they were doing. "That's a good spiral, isn't it honey?" "That's not a spiral, mom - that's a spin. A sit spin followed by a camel spin." "Why is it called a camel spin, honey?" "I don't know. Can I go watch something else in the other room?" So had to I let Dick Button and Peggy Fleming, Scott Hamilton and Sandra Bezic take over. The axel is the hardest jump because it has a forward take off and an extra half rotation - so a triple axel goes around three and a half times. The jumps in the second half of the program get an extra 10% point value because the skater is tired by then. The whole judging system changed because of the cheating scandal in the Salt Lake City Olympics.

I got a book on the cheating scandal. And a Dorothy Hamill biography. And a Scott Hamilton self-help book. And a history of figure skating. I watched videos on You Tube of the skaters I read about. I watched regionals on the computer. I started reading message boards. I became obsessed. And that hasn't been all bad. Skating is a beautiful sport. A skater is not just a dancer on skates. They are amazing athletes who are expected to do the impossible while donning sequins and eyeliner and make it look so easy that most people think it's not even a sport!

This weekend was the first part of the 2010 U.S. Nationals, the competition which helps decide the members of our Olympic team. It was thrilling, frustrating, exciting, depressing and satisfying. And that was just watching it on TV. Imagine what it must have been like to be there. We were at Worlds last year (one of the perks of Mommy's obsession - my daughter actually got to skip school twice to come with me to the competition!) and there was nothing like seeing such amazing skating live. Tonight while we watched Jeremy Abbott take his second National title, my daughter told me I should be a skating commentator. Because she thinks I know so much. Sometimes at the rink she gets mad that I can't help her with her jumps - she thinks I should be able to with the amount of skating I watch. But the truth is, I STILL can't tell the difference between a flip and a toe loop and while I may be able to skate around the rink without falling, I can't stop unless I run right into the boards! I have a fan's knowledge - not a skater's knowledge.

But now skating isn't just "her" thing anymore. Sure, I take her to the rink and watch during her lessons. I might even go sit beside the ice and remind her what she needs to practice. But skating to me is an exciting, heart-breaking, exhilarating sport that I love to watch and probably always will. I NEVER wanted to be a figure skater. My sister was a figure skater. But years after she had given it up, and was married with kids of her own, my dad would call her on the phone whenever skating was on TV. "Are you watching the skating, honey?" he would say and my sister would laugh. "No, Dad. We only watch gymnastics - the kids do gymnastics!" So years from now I'll be calling my daughter... "Are you watching the skating, honey?" I wonder what she'll be watching? But me, I'll be watching the skating.

(Next weekend - Ladies and Ice Dance at Nationals on NBC. The big question... is Sasha Cohen really going to show and will she snag one of the two spots on the Olympic team?)

The trials and tribulations of sharing a computer

I suppose this post could be about marriage in general, since this is the same sort of thing that happens when two people share a bathroom, a refrigerator, a closet or a car... except my husband knows how to work the shower, close the refrigerator door, stay out of my side of the closet and leave the car radio tuned to MY radio station! (Well, that last part's not exactly true but it sounded good and probably could fall under the New Year's resolution "Thinking Positively".) The trouble is the computer. It's not that he doesn't know how to work it - he does, kind of. But really, he has just enough information to believe he knows what he is doing and that's how I ended up with a post on my blog (a POST!) about a motorcycle. He thought he was commenting on someone else's blog. I don't exactly know how that happened at all but if you checked out this page in the last 36 hours or so, there was a really weird post from yesterday. So, it wasn't me. Not that I wouldn't have enjoyed a Bizarro comic of a motorcycle with a baby seat on the back... but I WOULD have known how to post that on the Bizarro Blog - which I just taught my husband to do (also explaining how to NOT post his comments as "Helicoptor Mom".)

Let's face it. I don't think he even knows I do this! I mean, he notices me at the computer. And he sees I am writing something but in the same way he tunes out the sound of American Idol coming from the TV as I watch it, he tunes out the whole blog process entirely. Even as he is posting as me. We don't read each other's email (at least I don't read his and I assume he doesn't read mine) but that doesn't mean that once in awhile he doesn't accidentally click on something of mine. The only reason I know that is when I get online to check my email and something I haven't read is marked as "read". The thing is, he doesn't even notice he did that! If I did that, I would mark the email as "unread" so he wouldn't miss it. But I do everything in a much more conscious way, I think. He can't possibly be thinking - otherwise how would he have NOT KNOWN that he posted on my blog!!!!

I guess you can see that it bugged me. Particularly because my first thought WASN'T "my husband inadvertently posted on my blog thinking he was commenting on someone else's blog" - no, my first thought was "someone hacked my computer and now they're going to steal my identity!!!!" This caused me some stress. For awhile. Until I read the post... about a BMW motorcycle. It is safe to assume that if a BMW motorcycle is being referenced, my husband is in on it. I guess I should be glad he's gotten past the "replying to me when I've forwarded an email to him" - I told him about it the first few times. Then I just started copying and pasting and sending it for him. Sometimes it's easier if I pretend I'm his assistant. Like when I hit "send" for the emails he has just left sitting on the desktop, addressed and ready to go, but sucked into "drafts". I used to ask first but now I just make sure it's complete and there isn't a duplicate in the "sent mail" folder, and then I hit "send". It's not so bad to be an assistant - I get to flirt with my boss and he doesn't even know why! Or be a total bitch and not have to worry I'll get fired. But sometimes I'd just like to know that he has "quit" all the programs and not just closed all the windows and that if he accidentally clicked on an unread email of mine that he'd make it look like he hadn't so I wouldn't have to end up explaining, a week later, how I missed that important email.

On the other hand, sharing a computer is an act of total trust. I could read his email, see where he goes on the web, read his documents, proof his resume. But I don't. Because after 20 years, if we don't have trust, we don't have anything. So 20 years, we have trust (and he has typos and I have a random post on my blog) - I think it's a pretty fair trade off.

And besides, I can't read his email - I'm too busy hovering over my daughter!! (And no, I don't read her email either - because she's too busy texting to use email!)

Headlines

When I made Yahoo my home page (and then customized it to be "My Yahoo"), it never crossed my mind that the day would come where the competing headlines would be "More Than 100K Feared Dead in Haiti Quake" and "Simon Cowell Leaves Idol". I find it disturbing that we live in a world where those two facts can legitimately be placed side by side as if they are of equal importance. Now, I'll be honest - I am an Idol viewer. Even an Idol fan. But under no circumstances is millionaire Simon Cowell's job drama even remotely important enough to warrant space in any sort of news website unless it's listed under "Entertainment". And even then, several paragraphs below Conan please!

Perhaps it's my fault. I probably selected "entertainment" as one of my interests on Yahoo (along with ACTUAL news) and now "My Yahoo" thinks I am as concerned about Tiger Woods marriage as I am about the collapse of the Haitian presidential palace. That's the trouble with the computer. Lots of info - no common sense. It's safe to say that when there has been a catastrophic event in the last 24 hours, keep the entertainment "news" under wraps for the rest of the day. Save it for Entertainment Tonight or TMZ. Let some actual news come through. It may concern someone that Simon is leaving it to Randy after this season, but probably not someone who has relatives in Haiti.

That said, I thought I'd mention the new phone books actually DID come yesterday. And I yelled "The new phone books are here, the new phone books are here!" just like I always do and then promptly tossed them into the recycle bin. As sad as it may be, I haven't looked in a phone book in years. I do it all on the computer now. But luckily I still get the newspaper - two even! So I can report that while the front page was appropriately dominated by the terrible news from Haiti, Simon Cowell's employment plans did not make the page. However, this being L.A., Conan's job situation did. In a state where movie stars routinely become governors, I suppose it's the best we can hope for.

The new phone books are here! The new phone books are here!!

Okay, I didn't really get a new phone book today. It's a line from the movie THE JERK (one of my all time favorites). Navin R. Johnson (Steve Martin) is working at a gas station when the new phone book arrives. In typical enthusiastic Steve Martin style he crows "The new phone books are here! The new phone books are here!! Things are going to start happening to me NOW!" Of course at that point we see a crazed madman pick Navin's name out of the phone book as the person he is going to hunt down and shoot. Not nearly as creepy as it sounds - trust me, rent the movie!

In any case, for the first time since January 1st, I finally feel like the new year has arrived. Things are going to start happening to me now! I went to two workshops today, one with a TV casting director and the other with a voice over coach/actor/casting director and both left me feeling like there's still something for me out there. I had been toying with the idea of going back to school to become a teacher (certainly a noble profession but far less entertaining than driving onto the Warner Brothers lot to get paid for saying a few lines and loafing around the craft service table) just so I could have some consistent cash. This economy hasn't been fun for a lot of people but I'm really getting sick of wondering if we're going to have health insurance next year. And teaching gigs really work with the over-scheduled child's after school activities. If I temp in some office, who is going to get her to the rink, tie her skates (I know, I know, it's time...) and be there to comfort her after the emotional and physical pain from 200+ attempts to land a fully rotated double toe loop? But going back to school for teaching (and the ensuing school loans) really would mean I'm planning to be a teacher. Not an actress who plays a teacher. Not a substitute teacher who is really an actress. A teacher. Day in and day out. Assuming I can even find a job! After 18 months of school (including 6 months of unpaid student teaching!). With none of the showbiz glamour and perks I've come to know and love - okay there aren't that many perks but it IS nice to get DVDs in the mail in January (thanks SAG!). Let's face it - I am really happy to take a step back from that bridge and lounge on the shore of possibly soon to be employed voice over actor or even unemployed actor who still has residuals coming in and is really working on making connections.

In any case, it's a new year and I feel optimistic. I'm still hot, off and on, but I'm also still talented. And more than that, I'm much more at ease than I've been for a long time. I'm finally old enough and have enough on my resume that I can go in to a casting director workshop and just do the work. Not spend the time freaking out about whether he'll like me or not, whether my scene partner thinks I'm talented or whether I should have worn a pair of stiletto heels like the girl named "Chartreuse" who just moved here from Atlanta. I know I'm not the next Julia Roberts - let Chartreuse worry about that! But for now, I'm an actress (who's still available to substitute teach) and I'm hoping 2010 just might be a GREAT year!

Is it hot in here or...?

One of the challenges of late-in-life parenting is being surrounded by thirty-somethings who don't realize that one night in the future, they will wake up and be hot. Not hot like Paris Hilton, hot like "OH MY GOD, IS THE HOUSE ON FIRE?" and when they realize it is not, and have thrown all the covers on top of whatever significant other lies beside them, they will quietly wonder... "Is it me?"

Welcome to the winter of my discontent. For the past 6 weeks, I have been intermittently hot, kind of hot, and "OH MY GOD, IS THE MALL ON FIRE?" hot. At first I blamed it on the geese or ducks or whatever we get the down from combined with California's unseasonably warm winter weather, until I found myself in hotel in North Carolina during a snowstorm tripping over the comforters I had thrown to the floor in an effort to find the thermostat so I could turn on the air conditioner... and saw that the temperature in the room was 70 degrees. Not exactly hot like the face of the sun. Since then, I have come to terms with the fact that no, it's not hot in here and yes, it is just me. But really... is it JUST me???? Surely there is some other 49 year old mother of a ten year old who occasionally has the desire to rip off all her clothes and stand in front of the open refrigerator in the middle of the night!

Ah, the middle of the night... that brings up some more uncharted territory - insomnia. It's one thing to wake up in the middle of the night sweating, kick off the covers and go blissfully back to sleep. It's another to get into bed at a reasonable hour and still be awake two and a half hours later, having already completed 4 or 5 rounds of cold (covers on), hot (covers off), really hot (pajamas off), only warm (just the sheet), hot (kick covers onto sleeping husband), cold (put pajamas back on), warm (kick sleeping husband just because), hot (tear off pajamas again). cool (just sheet), cold (pull on corner of comforter), comfortable (ready to fall asleep), fine (any minute now I'll be sleeping), not hot (is that the clock ticking in the bathroom?), starting to get annoyed (why do I not feel tired?!), worried (I'm never going to be able to get up in the morning if I don't get to sleep right NOW!), hungry (maybe if I eat a banana...), mad (how can he sleep when it's so hot in here?!), HOT!!! At which point I get up and log onto Facebook, change my status to my bra color and play wordscraper.

On the bright side, I have no trouble sleeping in the morning. Except - I don't have time to sleep in the morning!!!! I need to be up!!! Breakfasts to make, daughter to wake, vitamins to take - those lazy days of summer are long gone. Except, to be honest, it's still winter break here. (No, I don't know WHY we get so much time off here? So we can travel to YOUR neighborhood where it's cold and snowy and we'll appreciate where we live more?) So I sleep in. For one more day. Then, WHAM! That alarm will go off and we will catapult into the day like a raccoon shot out of a cannon. On the bright side, maybe I won't be hot.