Month: October 2013

Adoption/Adaption
She made it all the way to the top.

That teeny little pink dot at the top of the rope is Addie in her gymnastics class yesterday.  Every Freshman’s  gym class nightmare is not a problem at all for her.  She went right up and was the only one in her class to do so.  She constantly amazes me with her abilities and talents.  She also figured out the pool/spa remote this week (which I have never been able to do as it is ridiculously and unnecessarily complicated, even Don says so) because she thought the pool was too cold and decided it should be a toasty 104 degrees.  We only discovered it because there was steam coming off the pool yesterday morning.  I can’t wait to see the gas bill.

When we first met Addie we were rather taken with the dignity and courage this little ten-month-old baby had.  She settled in with us so bravely.  She really looked at us like, “This is it now?”  Her adaptability was astonishing.  She was forced to and became a survivor very early in her life.  She isn’t so good with adaptability these days.  In fact changes of any kind, even to something she enjoys, send her over the edge.  She had to make so many huge changes in her early life I can understand why she might be over it.  She is the first kid I have ever known that when asked to do something will look at you calmly and say, “No.”  We often disintegrate into huge emotional battles when we ask her to do something.  I won’t even talk about trying to get her to bed at night or getting her to school in the mornings.  Let’s suffice it to say if you had to do it for even one day you would understand why I went to Portland.

As much as I  can empathize I will never understand what it feels like to be her and to be adopted.  She speaks about her Chinese Mom and wishes she could meet her but she does not want to go to China or learn Chinese. (She says she doesn’t have a Chinese Dad and when I told her everyone had a Dad she responded, “India doesn’t, she has two Moms.” I didn’t think it was the right time to talk about sperm donors so I just let it go.)

My Addie

We are working with a therapist who specializes in adoption issues.  She was adopted herself as well as having adopted a child from China.  I may not understand how Addie feels but this woman does and she is helping Addie develop her own “Lifebook” and understand who she is and why she feels the way she does.  She will also help Don and I with the changes we need to make. Well, Mostly Don since I am already pretty perfect.

I’m fairly certain if we can climb this “mountain o’troubles” we will be fine.  Addie is the strongest most determined person I know.  In fact, all Don and I really
need to do is hold the rope and she could climb it by herself.

Last But Never Least

Did I mention I went to Portland?  Well if I didn’t then I will tell you now I was in Portland last week.  It was great.  I just love that city.  Books, coffee, movies, yoga, coffee, books, and coffee.  The people are great and there is no sales tax so the more you spend the more you save!  Don says there is something not quite right with that logic, but I see it as losing money if you don’t shop in Portland.
While I was there I went to see the Oregon Ballet Theater do Midsummer Nights Dream and a piece by some Spanish choreographer named Nacho (the choreographer not the piece).  It was fantastic and apparently this man is a very famous choreographer at present but I am so far out of the loop I have never heard of him.  As I sat in the audience reading the program I started to do some math (never a good idea) and realized it has been thirteen years since I was last on a stage.  My view in a theater is now from the front looking at the action instead of being on the stage looking past the lights out into the dark.  It’s is a beautiful vantage point I was so lucky to experience.  Sometimes from the stage you can see the faces of the people in the front rows but mostly it’s a sea of anonymous bodies outlined by a little light.   When there are empty seats, and you can always see those gaping holes, it messes with the symmetry and if an entire section is empty it looks so deserted and lonely.  The last job I had was Faust at the LA Opera.  It was hard dancing and I was almost thirty-nine years old.  It was the last time I was in the kind of shape it takes to be a dancer and it was the last time I had the view from the stage.  I knew it was probably my last trip to the rodeo and I tried to enjoy every moment.  I did not beat myself up after a performance if it wasn’t perfect because by then I had realized there was no perfect.  I did my best and that was good enough.  It’s nice to know when something is ending. If even nicer when you are ready for it to end.
First job 1978. Disneyland Christmas Parade
No fancy Instagram filter because it was really 1978.
 
Last job 2000.  Faust with Karen Christenberry Stimming.
I was really fortunate to have known it was the “last time” for my dance career.  There are so many “last times” and I don’t know when they happened.  When was the last time I carried Sofie?  When did Addie call me Mommy for the last time before switching to calling me Mom?  When was the last time I spoke to my father?  When was the last day I was the most important woman in Andrew’s life until it became Lauren?  Thank Goddess we don’t know when it is the last time for things or it would make life unbearable.   It is so intensely bittersweet.  We continue to grow, change and live our lives differently not even aware of the things we don’t do or have anymore because all the lasts are being replaced by new firsts.  That’s why we are not paralyzed by sorrow.  The firsts slip in sometimes as quietly as the lasts slip away and keep us in balance.  The lasts make us who we are and the firsts make us who we will become

That was a lot of thinking so I was really happy when the ballet started because my brain was starting to hurt. The dancers were beautiful, young, and strong and we were in our right places.  They were on the stage and I was watching .  It was a truly beautiful thing.
Doing make up for the last time.  (Yes, I documented it.)

Stumped No More

The unexamined life is not worth living.  Socrates said that but I don’t think he was planning on quite so many self help books.  If it is true an unexamined life is not worth living than my life must be worth a fortune.  Too much examination and unfortunately, for you, I have made you examine right along with me.  What else am I supposed to do?  I can’t drink or take drugs anymore so my outlet seems to be writing all this self discovery down.  Turns out it was a good idea to write it down because after fifty I sometimes forget what it is I discovered. It’s nice to have a record. Now, just because I can’t drink doesn’t mean you shouldn’t so go ahead and fix yourself a nice cocktail before you read the rest.  I’ll wait.

Welcome back!  I wanted to elaborate on yesterdays post about living out of the country.  Besides the obvious, no responsibility,  there was more to it.  Of course it is easier to live by yourself but I am making living with other people harder than it has to be.  I feel so put upon like I should be doing more all the time.  The truth is no one is asking me to do more for them.  It is all coming from me.  Discovery!

We are going to quit talking about me (only for a second).  The other night Sofie babysat Addie while Don and I went to dinner with some friends.  Around the time we were finishing up my phone rang:

Sofie:  Mom you have got to come home right now.  Addie is insane.

Me:  What happened.

Sofie:  Everything was fine and then I told her it was time for bed and she went nuts. I tried to catch her and then I had to sit on her to keep her from running away again.  She bit me and was screaming so loud I think the neighbors are going to call the cops.

Me:  Where is she now?

Sofie: She locked herself in your bedroom.

Me:  Go out to the sliding glass door.  It is probably unlocked and you can get in that way.  We are on our way home.

Sofie went to the sliding glass door but Addie had already locked that as well.  Sofie was none too pleased.

Sofie, age 16: (picking up a rock, hysterical)  Addie open this door or I will break the glass!

Addie, age 8:  (calm and collected) If you do you are going to have pay for that with your own money.  It will probably cost $1,000.

At this point Sofie decided to throw herself on the grass as if she had passed out.

Addie (calmly calling my cellphone) Mom? Hi it’s me.  Sofie is outside your door pretending she is dead.

Me: How do you know she isn’t really dead?

Addie:  She keeps gasping and rolling around.

Sofie:  AHHHHH!!

Don got on the phone and like a hostage negotiator talked Addie down and into opening up the door to let Sofie in our bedroom.  He also let Addie know that he had told Sofie where to find the little tool thingy to unlock the door.

Addie: Where is it?

Don:  There are two of them and I am not telling you.

He didn’t have to tell her.  By the time we got home she had looked for and found both of the tool thingys.  She won’t tell us where they are.

I’m going to wrap this up now by getting back to the important subject- examining me.  Here is what I have discovered here in Portland: It is easier to maintain a sense of self when you are not surrounded by crazy demanding people. Duh.  However, they are my crazy demanding people and I want to be where they are so I’m going to have to figure out how.  Maybe less examining and more enjoying.  Sounds like a plan.

Addie, beautiful yet deadly like a Bond girl.
Sofie and Elouise

Stumped at Stumptown

I am in Portland by myself and I have come to find myself.  This is the fourth time I have come to Portland in the last three years.  I like it here but maybe I should start looking for myself somewhere else because I can’t seem to find anything here but coffee and books. Don and I were talking the other day and to paraphrase, because he said it nicer, “There is nothing to you anymore.  You just react to whatever is going on.”  It didn’t even make me mad because he is correct and like I said he said it nicer. I feel like a mouse (a really cute one) and Don and the kids are cats that bat me back and forth across the floor and I am just waiting in fear until they tire of the game and  pounce on me and eat me.

I am not sure why I don’t have much sense of self.  It doesn’t help that  my kids are very difficult and extremely willful.  They will never be mice and I admire that about them.  I want my girls to, as CEO Cheryl Strayhan says to “lean in”,  but they are leaning in so much they are knocking me over. My fault not theirs.

I have realized that the times in my life I was the most content and felt the best were times I was on the road or living out of the country.  Hence my need to travel alone now to try to recreate that feeling.  It was so simple and straightforward. I just went to work and went home.  I couldn’t look for another job. I was not worried about paying bills.  I felt more secure being who I was because no one really knew me.  I was a stranger in a strange land already different so it didn’t matter.  The only problem I ever had to deal with was the occasional producer who would ask me to work on my “attitude problem”.  Whatever.

Now,  how to recreate the feeling of well being and sense of self in my own world.  The only thing I seem able to recreate easily is the attitude problem.  Whatever.  I’m not sure how I am going to do this but you can be sure I will let you know when I figure it out and I will pontificate about how you should do the same thing.  On that subject,  never listen to anything I say.  Example: do not go off your anti-depressants or throw away your bathroom scale, at least not at the same time. It was a really bad idea.  Whatever.